American Revolution 



'ontm?itt(tI 




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Fac-simile of a Two Dollar Bill — Revolutionary Currency. 
Feb, 17, 1776. 



PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 



OF THE 



American Revolution 

Prepared from Authentic Domestic Records. 

together -with Reminiscences of 

Washington & Lafayette. 

Edited by Sidney Barclay. 



^. 



New York: 

RuDD & Carleton, 130 Grand Street, 

(brooks building, cor. of BROADWAY.) 

MDCCCT.TX. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year lSo9, by 

SIDNEY BARCLAY, 

lu the Clerk's Ollice of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 

District of Ncav York. 






R. CRAIGHEAD, 

Printer, Siereoiyptrr, ami Elecirotyper, 

Carton CuirCitng, 

81, S3, '-jnd S5 Centre SlreeU 



^ 



r^ 3 



To 

WASHINGTON IRVING, ESQ. 

THIS VOLUME 

Is with permission inscribed, as a slight 

f £StimonraI of Respect. 

S. B. 



Preface. 



'T^HE following Papers are taken from private records of the 
Revolution, written by a mover among, and an eye-witness 
of, the scenes therein described ; commencing with the occupa- 
tion of Long Island by the British. 

The actors therein served, not in tented fields, or cabinet 
councils; thei'r names are not enrolled on the page of history; 
their deeds are unsung or unrcmembered ; their sufferings, 
losses, and privations are unrecorded. Yet, in their patient 
endurance they served their country no less than if their blood 
had been spilled upon her fields of battle, or their treasure given 
to acquire her freedom. 

Placed in a region of country which was taken early, and held 
by the enemy during the war, they were subject to the depreda- 



Preface. 

tions, insults, and levies of the British, and to robbery, incen- 
diarism, and brutal assaults from a class of outlaws, between the 
armies; the refuse of both parties, called Runners, Rangers, 
Cow-boys, etc. 

Those of the noble true-hearted countrymen of Long Island, 
who were at all active in behalf of freedom and their country, 
were exiled from their homes and obliged to fly ; if taken, they 
were imprisoned, their families were scattered, and their dwell- 
ings indiscriminately plundered ; while, by wearing a bit of red 
ribbon in their hats, as royalists, they might have been undis- 
turbed and protected. 

On the morning of the 30th of August, 1776, under cover of 
a heavy fog, while the enemy were so near that the sound of their 
pickaxes and shovels, as they dug the trenches, was distinctly 
audible to the Americans, General Washington, with unrivalled 
skill and judgment, effected the silent retreat and memorable 
passage of the East River. 

" After this," says a recent writer, " the British and their allies, 
the Tories and Refugees, had possession of the island, and many 
distressing scenes occurred, which were never made public, and 
can therefore never be known." 

Of this history, the following pages, from unpublished records, 
long kept, and often curiously though cursorily peeped into, afford 
a dark, though true picture. It is the history of the trials and 



Preface. 

sufFerings, hopes, fears, privations, and grievances of a neighbor- 
hood in the heart of the island. To dwell for a season with 
fervent gratitude and affectionate pride on the self-denying spirit, 
indomitable heroism, and inexhaustible patience, which animated 
our Fathers and Mothers in the Revolutionary struggle, will 
serve to keep fresh in our remembrance the price paid for our 
Freedom ; will recall our minds from the all-engrossing Present, 
and rouse them from the benumbing influence of luxury and 



ease. 



The writer of these Letters, and this Diary, was the wife 
of an officer of the Revolution, and the daughter of a clergyman 
of the Church of England, who, though endeavoring to main- 
tam the neutral ground (as became one who owed allegiance to 
the Prince of Peace) in the contest which was then raging, divid- 
ing the hearts of households, whose peace and joy had never 
before known a cloud, was yet loyal at heart through all trial, 
temptation, and loss. His daughter's position, as the reader 
will perceive, was a peculiar and painful one. • 

The journal was written during a long period of separation 
from her husband. It presents a true picture of her hfe, and 
commences with an extract from one of his letters to her. It is 
full of minute details, which, from their beauty and simplicity, 
have been left untouched. The old manuscript has been faith- 
fully adhered to, the writer of this preface being confident that 



13 



Preface. 

its authenticity will not be doubted by those who, taking truth 
and nature for their guide, can relish a plain tale plainly told. 

It is questionable whether there could be found in our whole 
country a spot where time has made so few changes, or custom 
so little inroad, as in the region which was the scene of these 
reminiscences. The habits and manners of its inhabitants arc 
unaltered. The same houses, the same furniture, the same farms, 
the same trees, remain to this day. The spot where some 
cruelty or outrage was committed is still pointed out, and the 
very hearthstone is shown, under which lay hidden, until the 
danger passed by, the httle relics of the broken household family 
plate, or perhaps all the money possessed by the needy owner. 



The Journal. 



" 'VV'RITE from thy heart, Mary, from 
the inmost recesses of it, that I may 
look into it, as it loves^ hopes, thinks, fears, 
that, though absent, thou mayest he near, and 
that thy trouUes, thy cares, may le shared, 
though not alleviated, ly one whom thou lovest, 
and who laves thee" 

The request shall be granted ; each 
day a page in the journal, or a letter to 
my husband. 

Still at the Parsonage with my three 
precious children; already heart-weary 



1776 



Septe.w,her . 



776 



Amcricju Revolution. 



at your absence, but striving to keep 
up courage. To-day received intelli- 
gence of the unfortunate affair of Brook- 
Ivn. What a skilful movement was 
that of General Washington — a won- 
derful retreat I — the enemy so near that 
the sound of their pickaxes and shovels 
could be heard I It is a new proof of 
his cool forethought and judgment. 
The heavy fog seemed to fall provi- 
dentially. May we not accept it as an 
omen that our leader is the favored of 
Heaven '? 

In this quiet nook where we had 
hoped to find peace and safety, we shall 
have disturbance, fear, and danger; since 
the enemy have possession of the island, 
there can be no doubt of it, but to some 
extent my father's neutral stand, and 
sacred profession, will protect us. 

As we have moved to this place, dear 



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1776 



Edward, since you left us, I think it 
will be agreeable to you to have some 
little description of it. It is a low- 
roofed, Dutch style of house, with its 
gable to the road; white-washed and 
covered with sweetbriar and creeping 
vines of many kinds ; and my father has 
planted the ivy, which came from his 
dear Old England. It grows slowly, 
and the children love to pick its glossy 
leaves, and carry them to grandpa. At 
the sight of them, his heart of tender- 
ness reverts to early days ; he tells them 
of the old castles, and grey ruins it man- 
tles over the sea, and of the one which 
overgrew the cottage where he was born. 
The thoughts of my dear, honored 
parent remind me of a brave old tree 
torn up by its roots, and transplanted 
into a foreign soil ; it may not die, but 
it has a sickly appearance, and its leaves 



1-76 



jimcriain Revolution, 



have lost their living- iircon. and arc pale 
and yellow. 

The tront door opens into a hall ot 
moderate size. On the right is the par- 
lor: back of it my lather's study, while 
on the other side is the dining-room 
and bed-room, and in the wing the 
kitchen. The roonis abo\e are spa- 
cious and convenient, the windows at 
the end being large, adniitting air and 
light. Across the tVont ot" the dwelling 
runs a piazza, or covered porch. Here 
we sit and sew, and talk, and read. 
^Iv t-uher tells me the news, which he 
srathers in his walks in the neii;hbor- 
hood; and I read to him portions of 
your letters, which indeed is but seldoni, 
because they are so tew. His breast is, 
I think, agitated by contending emo- 
tions. He is attached to the land of his 
adoption, and can synrpathize in her dis- 



American Rcrcolution. 



1776 



tress, but naturally his first, his dearest 
affections, were given to the land of 
his birth. Can we censure this? call 
it infatuation, blindness ? Oh no ! I 
honor my father for the sentiment. 
Do not condemn it, Edward. We love 
this, our native land, the native country 
of my mother, of both your parents. 
Her cause seems to us a righteous one. 
She is over-taxed, oppressed, insulted; 
my father feels this, he is indignant at 
it; yet, in his character of ambassador 
of Christ, follower of the Crucified, as 
well as by nature's instinct, he hates the 
sin, while he hves the sinner. They 
seem (the English) the foes of our own 
household to him; brother lifting up 
sword against brother, in unnatural war- 
fare, which he prays may speedily come 
to an end I 



'776 



American Revolution. 



October Tfd. 



"T^EAR, dear husband I was there ever 
anything so sorrowful, so dreadful, 
as young Nathan Hale's fate ? Tears 
are running down while I write. 

Would that the enemy's designs could 
have been discovered without so costly 
a sacrifice ! Gen. Washington desired, 
for he knew it to be of vital importance 
to the Continental Forces, that some 
one should penetrate the British Camp, 
to discover their plans. 

In the performance of this duty, the 
flower of the army has fallen a victim 
to British wrath and brutality. 

Rhoda Pemberton wrote me that at 
the time when Colonel Knowlton first 
made known to the officers, the wish of 
the Commander-in-Chief, a dead silence 
prevailed ; and then Captain Hale 
looked up and said, " I will undertake 
it." It seemed, she said, against right 



American Revolution, 



1776 



and nature to all his friends, and even to 
strangers, that so young and gallant an 
officer should go out on such service. 
But young Hale said, " Every kind of 
service for his country became honor- 
able. It was desired by the Com- 
mander of her armies." 

Young Captain Hale left the camp at 
Harlem Heights under General Wash- 
ington's orders, late in last month, I 
believe. 

Before reaching the British Hues he 
assumed the dress of a school master; 
he wore a suit of brown broad-cloth, and 
a round broad-brimmed hat. 

He took off his silver shoe buckles 
too. His college diploma was in his 
port-manteau, signed by the Reverend 
Doctor JN'apthali Daggett of Yale Uni- 
versity. 

He passed, so Rhoda tells me, safely 



7y6 American Revolution. 

through the British Hnes, every where, 
along the posts, and among the tents and 
barracks, to Huntingdon, about nine 
miles from this place. It was the place 
from which he started a short time 
before. A boat was to meet him, to 
sail over to Connecticut Main. 

The young man went down to the 
shore at day-break in perfect security; 
no doubt buoyed with joy at the success 
of his enterprise. 

He saw a boat moving shoreward. 
// was the enemy I He did retreat, but 
they cried out " Surrender, or Die." 

An armed vessel, the " Halifax," stood 
around the neck, out of sight. Thither 
the young man was taken, and put in 
irons. 

His papers, written in some dead lan- 
guage (Latin, I believe), were under the 
soles of his pumps. They betrayed him. 



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1776 



The next morning at daybreak, after 
he received sentence, he was executed. 

''I only regret," he said, just before 
he ascended to the gibbet, " that I 
have but one hfe to lose for my coun- 
try." 

Rhoda gave me this account. She 
says that Prevost Cunningham (the in- 
human wretch I) called out, " Swing the 
Rebel ofFI" 

I cannot write this without weeping. 
It was a noble testimony, but a bitter 
necessity. So likely, so young, so 
brave. 

It was on the 2 1st of September '76. 
They tore up the letter he wrote to his 
family, saying, the rebels should never 
know they had a man in their army 
who could die with such firmness. 



177^ 



Tuesday. 



AincriCi in Rccoli/tion. 



T^HE Hessians have been ordered to 
cut down all the sapHngs they can 
find. They pile them along the road 
about twelve feet high, then by pressing 
teams and wagons, they cart it away to 
forts and barracks at a distance. 

It is a serious loss; in a few years 
our farms will be without wood for use. 
They (the Hessians) burn an immense 
quantity; — even the rail-fences, unless 
w^e take care to cut and cart w^ood for 
their constant use. Keeping the fire 
a-going all night, many a poor farmer 
rises in the morning to find his cattle 
strayed miles away, or his grain trampled 
down and ruined I 



JFednesd^^'. a BOUT thirty miles to the eastward, 

a countryman was met on the 

road by a company of English soldier 

ruffians, when they began to curse and 



American Revolution, 



1776 



swear,' and threaten to compel him to 
say, "God save the king," which he 
resolutely and unwisely refused to do; 
though doubtless not counting on their 
putting their threat into execution. 

One of the villains, more in liquor 
and more violent than the rest, stepped 
up to the American, with a drawn sword, 
which he kept flourishing over the poor 
creature's head, and shouted, " Say it, or 

ly you're a dead man! " The villain 

paused an instant ; the dumb silence of 
the man continued, and the dreadful 
threat was put into execution I 

I suppose there are many around us 
who would have done the same thing. 
Few, in this our day and generation, 
pray for their enemies, not even " Good 
King George T' 



1776 



Saturday. 



uimcrican Rccolution. 



J^UTH FLOYD'S husband (you re- 
member Ruth, my old friend) has 
been murdered I 

She married Nathaniel Woodhull. 
He was elected last year President of 
the Provincial Congress. There are no 
bounds to the indignation and horror. 
A pattern of Christian meekness must 
he or she be, to be a*ble to forgive and 
pray for such enemies. But that God 
will turn their hearts I do most fervently 
implore. 

I jot down a few of the particulars, 
although it is a painful task. 

His duty was to drive the live stock 
from the shore to the interior of the 
island, out of the reach of the enemy. 

Being poorly off for men, he was 
forced to wait a reinforcement at 
Jamaica. He was Brigadier-General of 
Suffolk and Oueens. 



American Revohition. 



1776 



The General fell a victim to his high 
sense of honour. He refused to aban- 
don his perilous post, while any hope 
of reinforcement remained. 

My father thinks that he would have 
been justified in withdrawal. His force 
was reduced to less than 100 men, from 
a desire to remove their families to 
places of safety. 

Those remaining, were worn down, 
and their horses over-driven, in repelling 
the ravaging parties of the enemy. The 
British (landing at Gravesend) w^re 
pouring over the Island in swarms, cut- 
ting off communications with the Ame- 
rican force at Brooklyn. 

A severe thunder-storm compelled 
him to take refuge in an inn near by. 
He was overtaken by the 17th regiment 
of British Dragoons. The General gave 
up his sword in token of surrender. A 



1776 



AincriCi in Rcvoli/tion. 



ruffian ordered him to say, " God save 
the King." The General repHed, " God 
save us all;" on which the cowardly 
assassin brutally assaulted the defenceless 
General with a broad-sword. 

He would have killed him, but his 
hand was arrested by an officer of more 
magnanimity and honour. 

One arm was horribly mangled, from 
shoulder to hand. In this situation he 
was dragged from place to place : at 
length he was released from a filthy 
little vessel used to transport live stock 
for the use of the British army by the 
enemy, and removed, mangled, bleeding, 
and parched with fever-heat, to an inn 
at Jamaica, Mrs. Hinchman's tavern. 

She gave up the best room and bed 
for the poor w^ounded General's use. 
He begged her not to leave him alone 
in the hands of the enemy. The 



American Revolution. 



1776 



humane woman answered, " Don't be 
uneasy, General; I don't expect to go 
to bed to-night." 

The next day he was taken westward 
again. Mrs. Hinchman had dressed the 
wounds, bandaged his head, which was 
terribly cut, and the shattered arm. 

At a half-way house, while the escort 
regaled themselves within, the wounded 
General was left with a guard, under the 
horse-shed I Here again woman acted 
the part of the good Samaritan. Mrs. 
Howard, the landlady, went out to 
minister to the weak and fainting patriot. 

She brought bread, and wine-sangaree, 
and invited him with tender pity and soli- 
citude, to partake of some refreshment. 

The guard impudently asked, " If she 
had nothing for them *?" 

" I give to prisoners, you can hiy^' the 
kind woman replied. 



1776 



American RrcoJution. 



The fainting General was conveyed 
to New Utrecht. He felt himself ra- 
pidly growing worse ; his little remain- 
ing strength was fast ebbing. He 
urgently requested that his wife might 
be sent for. Strange to say, the request 
was granted. The arm was cut off by 
the surgeon, but mortification took 
place, and the brave man breathed his 
last, his wife, Ruth Floyd, having arrived 
only in time to receive his dying 
sigh. 

Poor Ruth ! What must have been 
her feelings when the news of her hus- 
band's state reached Mastick I 

Rhoda writes that she was wonder- 
fully sustained, and showed great pre- 
sence of mind. She (Ruth Woodhull) 
caused a wagon-load of provisions to 
be put up ; but little could her poor 
husband partake of 



Ainerkan Revolution, 



1776 



General WoodhuU lived but a few 
hours after she reached New Utrecht. 
He was in the enemy's hospital, in a 
comfortless, wretched condition. It was 
his request, that Ruth should distribute 
the provisions among the poor starved 
American prisoners there, which she did, 
and then placed her dear, lost husband's 
body in the wagon, and went on her 
lonely way home. 

Poor woman ! 

Yet, as she slowly travelled that dreary 
journey of 70 miles, in tears, there must 
have been some comfort in the thought 
that the precious remains of her gallant 
husband were not left with the enemy, 
to be denied the rites of sepulture ; but 
that she could lay him by the side of his 
forefathers, in the family burial-place ; 
in hope, and honourable pride, that for 
his country he had laid down his life. 



1776 



ThursJdy. 



American Revolution. 



Friday 



Morning. 



/^NCE a month the Hessians go 
to head-quarters for their rations, 
including spirits, and then for three days 
they are for the most part given up to 
intoxication, and we have trying and 
grievous scenes to go through ; fighting, 
> brawls, drumming and fifing, and danc- 
ing the night long; card and dice play- 
nig, and every abomination going on 
under our very roofs I The noise from 
the kitchen, which they always occupy, 
is terrifying. The door opening into 
the rest of the house is nailed fist, but 
the inmates are continually in dread of 
having their dwellings burnt over their 
heads. 

'"pHE Pattisons had a fine young 

heifer killed during the night. 

Some of the family heard the noise, but 

thought it most prudent not to make 



American Revolution. 



1776 



any resistance. The creature was drawn 
and quartered in the barn. What bold- 
ness I 

Mrs. Clement, the wife of James Cle- 
ment, was alone in the house with her 
children yesterday, about two miles 
hence, when an officer rode up, dis- 
mounted, and entered. He told her 
very civilly that he wanted supper for 
his company (about sixty men). She 
politely declined. He then began to 
insist, and at length said they should 
come. Mrs. Clement rephed that it 
was out of the question. She had no- 
thing prepared ; no person to assist her, 
and four little children to take care of 
Still he rode off, saying they would be 
back in an hour for supper, and if she 
did not get it ready, she must take the 
consequences. ^ 

She sat in fear and tremblinfi throu£xh 



1776 



American Rcvoh/twn. 



the hour, and her helplessness overcame 
her so, that she could not resist tears 
most of the time, though she tried to 
put her trust in the Lord, that He would 
deliver from her distress. 

She thought it would be well if she 
could take her children and leave the 
house, but the nearest neighbor was a 
mile by the road, though only half that 
distance through the woods. But the 
wood was often infested with robbers, 
and the very thought of going that way 
made her shudder. In her state of 
weakness and fear she was quite unable 
to carry her baby, and the three little 
ones were unable to walk the distance 
of a mile. So she determined to wait 
the event, and when the British came 
to tell them the truth. 

Whether they found a better prospect 
elsewhere, or what the seemin": cause 



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1776 



was, I cannot say; but they did not 
return, and I cannot help believing 
that they were providentially deterred 
from so doing. 



T HAVE to-day to record deeds of 
horror, and of heroism, seldom 
equalled. 

The house of Mr. Wilmot Oakley, 
near Cold Spring, was attacked last 
night. He had long expected, and was 
prepared to meet, the attack, being pro- 
verbially brave and powerful. 

The robbers forced open the front 
door, and entered the sitting-room, ad- 
joining Mr. and Mrs. Oakley's bed- 
room. Two loaded guns stood in the 
corner of the room. The robbers were 
armed with pistols and swords. On 
opening the door, Mr. Oakley saw three 
men, one of whom called out, " Surren- 



Saturday 



776 



American Rrcolution. 



der, and give up your money ! " Not 
he. They had this time met their equal 
in daring — the man to fight it out, and 
the woman too I 

Mr. Oakley fired his gun, and one of 
the intruders his pistol, which triflingly 
grazed the ear of Mr. Oakley. He 
handed his wife the gun, and took from 
her the loaded one ; fired it off, and his 
man fell. While she reloaded, he warded 
the other two of the rascals off with the 
gun in his hand. He then took the gun 
again loaded by Mrs. Oakley, fired, and 
the second man reeled and fell. The 
other man, seeing one of his comrades 
dead and the other fallen, ran out of 
the house, Mr. Oakley (with his gun 
reloaded) after him, fired at him as he 
was running on the road. The next 
morning traces of blood were seen in 
the road and on the fence, so that there 



American Revolution, 



is little doubt that he was wounded, 
though he escaped. 

I am glad to say every effort was 
made to save the life of the robber, who 
lay in a dreadful condition on the floor 
of the parlor, but it proved unavailing. 
He followed his companion in wicked- 
ness before the light of day. 

J^ATION-DAY. The Hessians bor- 
rowed a young horse of Mr. Pat- 
tison, to fetch home their rations, taking 
a pail for the Hquor. After two hours' 
absence they drove up, cursing with 
rage at the horse, and whipping the 
poor creature most unmercifully. The 
reason was soon manifest. It seems, 
just as one of them had set the pail of 
spirits in' the wagon, the young horse 
reared on his hind legs, and upset the 
whole ! 



1776 



Tuesday, 
16th OcL 



1776 



Amcrk\ in Revolution. 



We could scarcely conceal our plea- 
sure on hearing this, well knowing we 
had escaped one horrible jollification at 
all events, thanks to the high-mettled 
animal. 

Wednesday. /^HARLES accompanied John Har- 
ris home from school, with my 
permission, last night. He returned this 
morning, with a story of the night, which 
he related to me in breathless excite- 
ment. 

A family living a mile from us were 
quietly sitting together in the evening, 
when a noise was heard at the door like 
that of a sharp instrument thrust into it. 
On opening the door, there stood a red- 
coat with his sabre in his hand, which 
he had stuck into the wood an inch or 
two. He was backed by a dozen men. 
They pushed their way in, and were 



I 



American Revolution. 



1776 



very unruly, rummaging and ransacking 
every drawer and closet ; but the family 
had long before taken the precaution to 
place all their valuables and money in a 
small room, which opened out of the 
common sitting-room, putting a large 
cupboard before the door, which covered 
it entirely; so that the Hessians quar- 
tered there last winter never discovered 
the existence of the room. A cunning 
device. 

The red-coats, highly enraged at find- 
ing nothing, began to threaten terrible 
things if they did not divulge the hiding 
place. Mr. W. told them, that if they 
dared do any violence he would report 
them to the commanding: officer; where- 
upon they actually went into the kitchen, 
kindled some light w^ood, came out, and 
set a burning brand at each corner of 
the house.. The family were exceed- 



1776 



American Rcz'oli/tion. 



ingly alarmed. In great terror, Sarah, 
the youngest daughter, rushed out. She 
is famed through all the north side for 
her comeliness. I can well imagine that 
she must have appeared to them like a 
lovely apparition, with her flashing eye 
and Howing; cheek. The ringleader, 
astonished, stood with a torch in his 
hand, gazing at her. 

At length he said, " Angel I " 

" Stop, I entreat you," said Sarah. 
His looks were riveted upon her in 
ardent admiration, which embarrassed 
her. 

" I will, on one condition," said he. 

" What is it '? " said she. 

"Will you grant it?" 

" If I can," replied Sarah. 

" It is, that you will allow me to kiss 



you. 



"Oh, if that is all," said her father, 



American Rc-colution. 



1776 



" comply, my daughter." So, as she 
made no resistance, the rough soldier 
planted a fervent kiss on her lips, ex- 
pressed himself satisfied, and departed. 

They found before her baby-house 
that the soldiers had stuck the dolls on 
their bayonets, and railed among them- 
selves and laughed. 

It is seldom that a man's house is 
attacked more than once. Mr. Harris 
had his turn some time ago ; therefore, 
although he saw some suspicious-looking 
persons lurking about, he feared nothing, 
and rose before daylight, with the inten- 
tion of going to the south of the island 
for salt hay. 

Mrs. Harris, however, began to feel 
uneasy and timid, from the reports she 
heard during the day, and the recollec- 
tion of her never-to-be-forgotten injuries, 
and persuaded her husband to remain at 



o 



jimcrH\ut Rcvoiatfon. 



honu\ riuu nic^\r passed without Jis- 
rurlxiiuw 

Aboiu niiio o\'Kv^k tho next oncmiIhl:,', 
a iuMi;hbor stopped at the i;ato in his 
w a^oti, and ho and Mr. Harris were 
runnini;" o\er the exeitinL:; tunes luuI 
scenes enaetini;- round the country, w hen 
thev saw a man nun in^;- about the tields, 
and peering- out ot the edi^e or the 
woods now and then. C^ne ot the serv- 
iuL^ women, too, had seen some cMie 
about dusk standing olose b\ the W(H\1- 
pile, who vanished on her appearance at 
the door cM the kitchen. In conseopience 
ot these sii:ns, Mr. Harris conchided not 
to retire, but to sit up and kee{> hi:hts 
and tires burnin^;" about the hou.se. 

Charles and the other children were 
sent to bed, but not to slee[^: that w:is 
impossible, with their perturbed and 
excited iniai^inations. 



AlKjtit rw(:]\'(: ()'(:]()(:k, Mr. lldrr'w 
\)<:'\]i;/ ()]i tlif: )fjf;k c;iit, '-/d\v a man at a 
jioif. cli:Jarj(:^: frc;in tlif: lj(>ii',f:, aj>pa- 
rf-rjtly rcfjorjnf^itring; h^: now }jf:ld a 
rourifJI vvitJj his wife and t.h^ tw(j hired 

'1 h' V ^anie 1o the- eonehjsion tliat an 
attaf;k was intfndf:d, and that it was 
time to aet ; and tliey detf:rniined to 
leave the }jou\e irj a hody, takin^^ the 
two ^nin:;, loaded, the money, silver, and 
small valuables. 

Thou^di the next }j(juse was full a 
half juile off, there Sf:eme(l nr> otlicr 
alternative. 'Jhe poor little friglite-ned 
( hildren were hurried up and dressed; 
their fears and cries were hushed, and 
they were carried down stairs. As 
(juietly as j)(jssihle all left thr: house by 
the back door. 

It was a moment of intense anxiety; 

45 



1--6 



jimcrk \ in RcivIiVt/o/i. 



their hearts beat with dread and terror. 
With trenibhng hnibs, that alnu^st re- 
fused to bear them, they slowly and 
paintuUv moved on. ** Faint, though 
pursuing." they endeavored to stay their 
minds above. 

At length arrived at Mr. S.'s. another 
ditheulty presented itself. Tlie tanhly 
would inevitably take them tor robbers, 
and be liable to tire upon them. 

In this dilemma Mr. Harris tlnnight 
it best to i^'o elose to the door, and eall 
out his name, trustiuir that his % oiee 
would be recoOTised, which was the 
case. 

The poor wanderers were warmly re- 
ceived, and provided with comfortable 
beds, after they had talked over their 
fright. 

The house of Mr. S. has never been 
attacked, it is so well secured, the doors 



American Revolution, 



1776 



and windows being lined and barred 
with iron, which is well known. 

A new source of trouble has appeared 
on the south side — kidnapping negroes. 

The ruffians come in sloops from the 
Delaware and Maryland country, and 
landing on the island in the night, they 
steal the poor creatures while asleep, 
after the labor of cutting the salt mea- 
dow grass for their masters. When they 
get them away, they sell them at the 
South. 

A week since, while the men were at 
work, four persons, in broad day, their 
faces blackened, and dressed like ne- 
groes, appeared suddenly, each armed 
with a gun, and before the others could 
come to the rescue, a man and a boy 
were forcibly taken, put in a boat, and 
rowed off to a cutter out at sea. On 
the deck the villains could be seen 



1776 



American Revolution. 



putting chains on the poor creatures. I 
tremble at the thought of the future I 



Wednesday^ 

Nov. 2^th. 



'VT^ESTERDAY my indignation was 
aroused to a high degree. I was 
sitting in the end of the porch, my father 
at my side, and Httle Mary, with your 
letter in her hands, which she was 
pretending to read, when a loud cry 
startled us. It seemed to come from 
neighbor Pattison's, our nearest neigh- 
bor. Charles went over, returned, and 
gave us this account of the affair. It 
appears that Edmund Pattison was enjoy- 
ing his noon rest quietly in the barn (he 
is a noble-looking lad of eighteen, tall 
and athletic, and of a high spirit), when 
a light-horseman rode up to the door. 
" Youngster," said he, " make haste 
and bestir yourself Go and assist the 
driver of the two yoke of oxen there to 



American Revolution. 



\Ti^ 



unload his cart of the timber into the 
road." 

Now Edmund had been hard at work 
with his own hired man, loading the 
wagon to take the timber to a farmer 
three miles off, to w^hom it was sold by 
his father; the waggon and teams both 
belonged to the Pattisons. 

" Hurry, sir," said the light-horseman. 

Edmund firmly replied, " I shall not 
do it." 

" What, sirrah ! we shall see w^ho will 
do it ; " and drawing his sword, he held 
it over the head of Edmund, cursing 
and swearing, and threatening to cut 
him down, unless he instantly unloaded, 
and took his team, and helped to carry 
in it provisions for the army. 

With unblanched cheek Edmund Pat- 
tison reiterated his denial, and told him 
to do it himself 



776 



Amerki in Rrcoh/thn. 



Incensed and enraged beyond mea- 
sure at such a contempt of orders, it 
seemed as though the man ?ni/st strike 
and kill the stubborn boy, who, firm 
and undaunted, said not a word. 

At this time our Charles, who w^as on 
the spot, ran to the house and told Mrs. 
Pattison that " the Britisher was going to 
kill her Edmund." 

Her cry it was that we heard from the 
porch. She ran to the barn, and begged 
the soldier to desist. He was more 
furious than ever, supposing the fear of 
the mother would induce compliance : 
she too expostulated with her son, im- 
ploring him to assist in unloading the 
wagon, and save himself from death. 

•'No fear of death, mother: he dare 
not touch a hair of my head." The 
boy was more determined than before, 
and the soldier more enraged, flourish- 



American Revolution. 



ing his sabre, and swearing that he would 
be the death of him. 

'' You dare not. I will report you to 
your master for this," said Edmund, very 
boldly. Upon this the light-horseman 
I mounted his horse, and told the brave 
Edmund once more, that if he did not 
instantly comply with his request he 
would cut him into inch pieces I 

Edmund coolly walked across the 
barn-floor, armed himself with a huge 
pitchfork, and took his station in the 
doorway. 

" You cowardly rascal," said he, " take 
one step towards this floor, and I stab 
you with my pitchfork I" 

His mother could endure the scene 
no longer; she ran to the house, where 
she met her husband, and sent him to 
rescue Edmund. Friend Pattison, a sen- 
sible, clear-headed man, rode up, and 



1776 



i77^> 



American Revolution. 



Saturday, 

Nov. 27. 



seeing matters at this high pass on both 
sides, said to the Britisher, *' You know 
your duty, and have no right to la)- a 
finger on //////, a non-combatant on neu- 
tral ground." 

Seeing no signs of relenting, farmer 
Pattison turned his horse into the direc- 
tion of the road, and said he would soon 
see Colonel Wurms, and know zcho had 
the power to abuse and threaten the far- 
mers of the country in such a maiincr. 

The light-horseman was now alarmed, 
and thinking it best to get there first, 
put spurs into his horse, and rode off, 
uttering awful imprecations. 

Thus this time Edmund escaped, 
though I very much fear his defying, 
fearless spirit may yet cost him dear. 



DECEIVED a few hasty lines from 
White Plains. They mention an 



American Revolution. 



ii(^ 



engagement on the 28th October; "re- 
treated with loss." The aspect of affairs 
is gloomy indeed. I cannot but feel 
despondent. Where is it to end., and how ? 
The army is greatly reduced by killed, 
wounded, and taken, and those whose 
enlistments have expired daily leaving; 
the poor creatures remaining, many 
without shoes or comfortable clothing, 
are sadly disheartened. The enemy 
have possession of the city of New 
York, of Staten Island, and of Long 
Island. Who can look without trem- 
bling at the failure of this struggle to 
throw off our yoke ? The reins drawn 
tighter, more oppressed and circum- 
scribed, and the examples made of 
rebels — it is fearful to think of 

It must have been an affecting sight 
to witness the enthusiasm of the poor, 
barefooted, ragged, hungry troops, toss- 



1776 



American Revolution. 



ing up their crownless hats in the air, 
when, on his white charger, the general 
rode into camp I 

I will confess a womanly admiration 
of a noble exterior. Washington's in- 
fluence and authority must be enhanced 
by his gallant bearing and commanding 
figure, as he sits his proud steed. 

You never look at the possibility of 
failure. It is the cause of liberty, the 
cause of humanity; yet your letter 
breathes discouragement. We are so 
far separated, there is so much uiiccr- 
tainty, and war is so sorrowful, that I 
sometimes feel a longing to fly with you 
to a place of peace and safety. 

Adieu I The little ones are well ; 
they (blissful things I) know not die 
care and anxiety of 

Your fond and foreboding- wife. 



Ajncrican Revolution. 



'^HE depredations, robberies, and not 
seldom murders, committed by the 
Cow-Boys and Runners, are alarming, 
and exasperating the people in the ex- 
treme. The farmers suffer dreadfully 
from the levying, taxing, and quartering 
upon them of the Hessians and British 
soldiers. They are very insolent, mak- 
ing most unreasonable demands, and the 
meek-spirited, unresisting Quakers are 
martyrs to their lawlessness and rapacity. 
There are two homesteads besides our 
own which border The Pond. It is a 
beautiful little sheet of water. My 
father often says it would, in the old 
countries, be called a lake, tarn, or some 
other pretty name. Well, it would not 
any more enliven our prospect as it spar- 
kles in the sun, and grows dark and 
shadowy in the twilight. Nor would 
Charley delight the more to sail 



1776 



December. 



[HS 



1776 



Amcr'h\ III Rrcoli/thu. 



Monday. 



mimic ship, or paddle the canoe upon 
its bosom, than he docs now the hve- 
long day. There is a small island in 
the centre, which is called after the silly 
birds which dearly love to swim the 
water, land thereon, flap and dry their 
wingS; and scream their pleasure — Goose 
JsLinJ. 

pjENRY PATTISON, the nearest 
neighbor, has eight sturdy sons, and 
one little timid daughter. He belongs to 
the Society of Friends, is a fine specimen 
of humanity, owns a valuable farm, yet 
has a pretty hard struggle to bring up 
his large family. He was beginning to 
prosper a little, when the war began ; 
but he is a mild, patient, pious man, 
consulted in all troubles and difficulties 
the whole country round; has prevented 
much froinir to law; visits the sick in 



American Revolution. 



1776 



soul and in body, and relieves diem by 
his judicious advice, temporal and spi- 
ritual. He is called hereabouts The 
Peace-Maker. 

Friend Pattison appears to have nei- 
ther " part nor lot " in the struggle in 
which the country is engaged. How 
strange ! To he a man^ and re?nain neutral! 
His soul abhors War. This principle of 
their sect is enrooted in his breast. Yet 
he is a severe sufferer from it. Six Hes- 
sians are quartered upon him. They 
took possession of the kitchen; swung 
up their hammocks ; cook his (the far- 
mer's) food, and hang about, smoking 
and drinking the live-long day. Dear, 
how annoying I When shall we be rid 
of them? 



QENERAL HOWE has issued a 

proclamation offering pardon to 

3-^ 57 



Thursday. 



1776 



American Rci'olution. 



all who will submit to royal authority. 
Pardon I for what '? A just iiuiignation 
against rights trampled upon I 

It is said that many wealthy and influ- 
ential persons have deserted the Ameri- 
can cause. It is indeed a Hoomv hour I 
But we must triumph. The descendants 
of those who sought here a peaceful 
asylum from oppression, — Huguenots, 
Puritans, Covenanters, — will not submit 
to oppression here. They will defend 
it with their lives. The ocean rolled 
between them and their tyrants, thcn^ 
as it will .'^'•.?///. It is God's decree that 
this people shall be free. The broad 
lands of this new continent are destined 
to all time to be the asylum of the 
Persecuted, the Poor, the Sufferihg I 
Tyranny here shall never hold his bale- 
ful swav I 



American Revolution. 



1776 



' E ^HE impressments of men, horses, 
and wagons, to carry provender, 
hay, and soldiers, about the country, are 
unceasingly going on. When the dread- 
ful work begins, the light-horseman is 
seen flying like lightning from house to 
house ; the men take the alarm, and 
make every effort to get out of the way, 
and to hide their horses and wagons. It 
is very difficult. Many a noble animal 
is ruined, worked to death. When the 
farmers are once caught, and receive 
orders, they dare not disobey, for perse- 
cution is sure to follow. They receive 
less injury by complying. 



Monday. 



gDITH PATTISON came over to 
the Parsonage to-day for the first 
time. She is a sweet young Quakeress; 
her pure, lovely, and attractive looks are 
indeed winning. She wore a silvery 



Tuesday, 



776 



American Rurcolutlon. 



drab poplin ; the sleeves came just above 
the elbow, a little white frill below; her 
arms are round and white. She wears 
always a neat gauze cap ; it is thought 
unseemly in their Society that a young 
woman's head should be uncovered. 
She is very fair, though her hair and 
eyes are dark ; her aspect is mild, gentle, 
and pensive. I can describe to you the 
outHne of Edith's features, but not the 
spiritual expression of her face. She is 
made a perfect lady of by her eight 
doting brothers. They will fetch, and 
carry, and run for their beautiful sister, 
as though she were a queen. And when 
you look at her, you do not think it 
strange, her air and mien are so serene, 
and dignity sits enthroned upon her 
brow. 

Doubtless when you read my Journal, 
penned for your eye, you will exclaim, 



Ainerican Revolution, 



1776 



" How could she calmly write these de- 
tails in stirring times like these ^ " But 
remember, Edward, I must be occupied 
about something; it beguiles the atten- 
tion, and keeps off sad thoughts of 
you, which, when I give way to them, 
rend my heart. My precious father's 
peace is disturbed, and even the dear 
children appear to participate in the 
foreboding gloom. ' 



^0-DAY little Marcia found me weep- 
ing over your miniature. She took 
it out of my hand, and covering it with 
kisses, said, " Oh, that is my dear papa. 
He is a brave man, is he not, mamma ? 
and the best man too that ever hved. 
When will he come back ? " 

This prattle will be sweet to your 
ears, for it comes from the heart. 



Thursday. 



1776 



American Revolution. 



Sunday. HPHE church was opened for divine 
service to-day. It was unusually 
solemn; many officers and soldiers 
attended ; they were serious and atten- 
tive. 

Our beautiful clover-field is trampled 
upon and ruined. My dear father was 
so fond of its luxuriance ! When the 
dew was on it, the air came laden 
with delicious odor, regaling us when we 
sat in the porch. The children used to 
make posies and wreaths of the large red 
and white flowers, and often expatiated 
fondly and gratefully on the rich feast 
preparing for the horse and brindle cow, 
by Him who "giveth the early and the 
latter rain." The clover-seed came from 
England. While in church a company 
of fifty horsemen rode into the field, 
and quite cropped and destroyed it. I 
have persuaded my father to make 



American Revolution. 



1776 



complaint to Colonel Wurms ; but there 
is no redress. 



A PRESS for horses yesterday. I 
will relate how Charley saved our 
young horse. He and James Pattison 
were idly sitting on the fence, the other 
side of the pond, talking indignantly 
of the insults of the British, to whom 
the former shows no mercy, when they 
espied a light-horseman at the door of a 
farm-house. They knew the next place 
would be Isaac Willetts', w^hich, though 
only across the pond, is completely hid 
from our view by a stately row of pop- 
lars, which forms a leafy screen; and 
they knew his errand too, that he would 
be here in an instant, for when "press- 
ing," they gallop from house to house 
with violent speed. 

" Fleetfoot shall not go," said Charles, 



Tuesday. 



"without an effort to save him;" and 
running with all his might to the barn, 
he jumped on his back, and made for 
the woods. 

On the instant he was seen by the 
red-coat, who put spurs to his horse, 
and came on a full run towards the 
woods, where Charles had disappeared. 
My heart beat quick when the red-coat 
too was lost to sight. My dear, brave 
child might fall from his horse and be 
dashed against the trees, in the hot pur- 
suit of the light-horseman, 
w My father and I sat gazing intently 
towards the woods, awaiting the result 
in breathless anxiety, astonished at the 
boy's daring, and ready to reprove his 
rash spirit in attempting to save the 



yo 



un 



s: horse at the risk of his own 



safety. 



In about an hour's time we saw the 



red-coat come out of the woods below ; 
he stopped a man in the road, and made 
inquiries, but getting no satisfaction, 
rode off, muttering curses. 

At nightfall, peeping his way through 
the wood, Charles made his appearance, 
still mounted on his favorite Fleetfoot. 
By signs we made known to him that 
the danger had passed, and he rode up 
to the house. Overjoyed to see him, 
he told us his story, which Grace and 
Marcia drank in with greedy ears. In- 
deed the scene in the porch was worthy 
of Hogarth's pencil. On one side was 
his pale affrighted mother, and the little 
girls, with eyes open wide and fall of 
wonder; near by, the venerable grand- 
father, with silver locks parted upon a 
peaceful brow, and Charley standing 
close to his steed, as he recounted his 
wrongs and hairbreadth escape, leaning 



1776 



Anicrh \in Rccohition, 



his licad occasioniilh' against his proud 
neck, so tliat my son's curls ot' gold 
mingled with the ebon mane oi Fleet- 
toot. 

He said that he struck deeper and 
deeper into the woods, going from one 
piece to another, until the forest became 
\<i\\ dense and dark. He rode into a 
tangled, marshy place, where he stood 
tive hours without moving! 

x\t one time he heard his pursuer 
close by: heard his fearful oaths, heard 
him lashing the sides of his own jaded 
horse. Charle}*s heart beat violently. 
But the bog was wet and gloomy, and 
the soldiers ardor was dampened — he 
durst not venture. So Charles and 
Fleetfoot were left to themselves in 
the deep wood. A brave feat ibr a 
boy oi fourteen I 



A N olliccr of high rank is in winter 
quarters with us; resistance is out 
of the question; wounded and ill, we 
deeply sympathize with him. Foe or 
triend, he must be cared tor compas- 
sionately. 

lyJAJOll MUSGRAVE has two ser- 
vants. They attend upon him 
assiduously, but ccv can minister to the 
mind of the poor gentleman, and by 
reading and conversing, can beguile him 
sometimes of the thought of his situa- 
tion. 

Oh, dear husband, war is a weari- 
ness ! Its effects sicken the soul. Every 
hour some fresh account of murder, 
robbery, wounding, destroying, depre- 
dating I 

When will this unnatural warfare be 
at an end ? 



December 



TaesJiiv. 



1776 



Jf'c'Jnc-sJ.ix. 



Amcr'h\ in RrcoJuthn. 



J^JAJOR Ml\SGUAVE Is very ill 
to-dav, but vot consicicM-ato, and 
t\ill ottho thoiightnil courtcs)' of the ^^on- 
tloiiian. WMiat a blessed thing it is, that 
iiational animosity can bo lost sight ot 
torgottcn, in sorrow aiid compassion lor 
a tcllow-crcaturc's distress I It leads me 
constantly to bring honu^ to my own 
thou<rhts and feelings the idea ot* a 
beloved husband, child, or brother, in 
such a situation, away trom me and all 
that he loved: amid those against whom 
his hand had been raised in \\ artare : 
wcnuided, ill, in pain, and ai^.guish of 
s[Mrit. Should I not cherish, in the deep 
places of my heart, an everlasting grati- 
tude '? And should I not teach it reli- 
giously to my children, to those who had 
tln/s ministered unto mine own 'I 



American Revolution. 



"^'O public news this many a day. 
My womanish fears, as you name 
them, get the better of me. The dis- 
parity between the contending parties is 
so immense. The mother country, the 
first maritime power on the globe; her 
great wealth, vast resources, well disci- 
plined armies, experienced military and 
naval commanders. What have the 
Colonies to oppose to such an array of 
means and power"? 

Inexperienced officers; raw, undisci- 
plined troops; scant arms and muni- 
tions of war; small revenue; few armed 
ships! 

Be still, my anxious heart! "All 
things are possible to them that believe." 
" By faith we can remove mountains." 
Mountains they appear when we look 
at human means, which seem utterly 
inadequate. But "the race is not to 



1776 



Friday. 



1776 



American Revolution. 



Monday. 



the swift, nor the battle to the strong." 
What is this struggle of the Colonies? 
Is it a war of aggression, of cupidity, of 
' conquest, of fierce passion, for tyranny 
and despotic sway? No — it is the 
noble endeavor, the strong purpose, 
founded in inalienable right, to throw 
off a galling yoke unjustly and perse- 
veringly imposed. It is the cry of 
humanity against oppression, usurped 
power, insolence, and rapacity. Will 
it prevail, or will it be smothered'? 
Will those evils, from which our fathers 
fled to this new-tound country, like 
hydra-headed monsters, raise lie re their 
heads, nor be smitten ? ; 

'T^HE neighbors feel in Major Mus- 
grave an involuntary interest. Sym- 
pathy forms this bond. They call often 
to see him, and inquire about him, and 



Amcricdii Revolution. 



1776 



bring nice things to tempt the sick man's 
appetite. Such attentions touch him 
sensibly. The wound is very bad; it 
has induced a high fever. He is patient 
and uncomplaining, which is ten times 
more touching than if he were cross and 



irritable. 



T CANNOT but be powerfully moved 
by the wounded man who lies below. 
His heroic patience in such deep suffer- 
ing is to be greatly admired; also his 
consideration of others in the midst of 
it. He seems to forget himself, in 
the dread of giving trouble and incon- 
venience. My father says it is the gift: 
of God — Gi\u\\ which enables him to 
triumph over the pains of the body. I 
asked Major Musgrave if he had always 
endured suffering so patiently? He 
replied, " I have not borne mental trials 



Tuesday 



1776 



Amcrkwi Revolution. 



with patience or meekness; they are more 
difficult to endure than bodily pain." 
He has before made allusion to some 
great sorrow which he has experi- 
enced. 



Dec. ^oth, 
1776. 



'T^HE year has closed disastrous, 
gloomy; panic and despair reign 
in many a breast. All the future is un- 
certain ; none can foretell what another 
year may bring forth. Our great com- 
mander is still hopeful; although he 
prays Congress for more effort and assist- 
ance, he never speaks a discouraging 
word as to the result of the strufrsile. 
If Congress would appropriate more 
money, and men could be enlisted on 
longer terms, say during the war, and 
properly equipped, greater things could 
be done. Now, no sooner are they 
orjxanized, and become a little drilled. 



Aincrici in Rcvohitioii, 



than the term of enhstment expires, and 
raw recruits take their place. 



777 



"VTEWS of tlie Battle of Princeton. 
My husband safe, thank Heaven ! 
General Washington victorious ; Gene- 
ral Mercer mortally wounded I How the 
thoughts of his loved ones rush to my 
heart I God have mercy upon them I 
The Commander-in-Chief, by his judg- 
ment, skill, and cool intrepidity, has 
struck the enemy with surprise. They 
have looked with contempt on our raw 
men, many of whom never saw a battle. 
They expected to crush us ; to quell 
with ease, by their giant power, the 
rebels, as the lord of the forest crushes 
the insects beneath his feet. With all 
Major Musgrave's politeness, this is dis- 
coverable. 

They forget the deep-rooted indigna- 

4- 7:! 



Jan. \^th. 



1777 



American Revolution. 



tion which burns in our breasts ; the 
determination to be free, animating the 
whole colonies with one heart and pur- 
pose, to do and dare for Hberty, or death I 

Thursday. '"PHE Major is rather better; the 
w^ound appears to be healing, but 
he is miserably weak and ill. I went 
into his room to-day rather unexpect- 
edly; he appeared to have a miniature 
in his hand, and put it hastily aside. I 
asked no questions, of course. 



Friday. QENERAL WASHINGTON has 

completely dislodged the British 
along the Delaware river, and recovered 
almost the whole province of New Jer- 
sey. Does it not teach man to look to 
Him, and remember who it is that 
blesses the means, when to mortal view 
they seem totally inadequate ? 

74 



J 



American Revolution. 



Til 



/^UR trials in this quarter, I have no 
doubt, appear to you trifling, and 
insignificant. In comparison with the 
great sacrifices and noble deeds now 
enacting on a broader field, they are so. 
Nevertheless they are irritating and ex- 
asperating in the extreme, and hard to 
be borne. Were I to undertake to 
relate the injuries, insults, horrors, and 
sufferings our poor farmers are subject 
to, I should never finish the story. They 
take the fence rails to burn, so that the 
fields are all left open, and the cattle 
stray away and are often lost ; burn fires 
all night on the ground, and to replenish 
them, go into the woods and cut down 
all the young saplings, thereby destroy- 
ing the growth of ages. But worse 
than all, robbers come over from the 
main shore in boats, and keep us in 
constant alarm I They belong to no 



Monday. 



/// 



American Rd'olutlon. 



party, and spare none; freebooters, 
cowardly midnight assassins, incendi- 
aries, indiscriminate, bold, and daring. 
'• Their hand is against every man, and 
every man's hand Is against them." 

We have been spared as yet on ac- 
count of the Hessians and officer, which 
are quartered here, whom they fear. 
Thus " some strange comfort every state 
attends." 



Wednesday. 'T^HE soldiers take so much notice of 
the children, that I fear lest they 
should contract evil, especially Charles. 
They have taught him to speak their 
language ; he understands nearly all 
their conversation. They make pretty 
willow baskets for Marcia and Grace, 
and tell them of their own little ones at 
home, over the stormy ocean. The 
children are fond of them, and thev feel 



no enmity towards them. What is 
more melancholy than the trade of a 
hired soldier? I deeply commiserate 
their wretched lot. Nothing to ennoble 
the contest; no homes and hearths to 
fight tor; no country to save; no free- 
dom to bleed and die for. It may be 
" sweet and proper for our country to 
die," as saith the old Roman, but it is 
bitter servitude to risk life and limb for 
lucre ; and revolting, sickening, to serve 
in a cause by which we have nothing to 
gain in victory, or to lose in defeat I 



A MOST daring deed was perpe- 
trated last night about a quarter of 
a mile from us. Mr. Robert Lester is 
a Tory, and has been somewhat active. 
He was awakened at midnight by a 
loud crash; it was occasioned by an im- 
mense stone thrown with violent force 



Tuesday, 



1777 



American Rccolution. 



against the front door, which broke in. 
The robbers entered the house. They 
ordered Mr. Lester to dress himself in- 
stantly; he dared not disobey, being 
completely in their power ; he was blind- 
folded, taken to the harbor, placed in 
the light craft which they call " whale- 
boats," and rowed over to the main shore, 
seven miles. The villains will sell him 
to the Whig Committee of Safety. 



Thursday. 'TPHE army in winter quarters at Mor- 
ristown. Depredation and destruc- 
tion going on about here. 

Major Musgrave sits up an hour or 
two every day; he powerfully awakens 
my sympathy. Do not be frightened, 
my husband. Pity, admiration of his 
patient endurance, no other sentiment 
can animate my breast. He is our coun- 
try's foe, but circumstances have made 



American Revolutwn. 



^111 



him so ; and he said to me this day, " It 
is a wicked war, and if it please God to 
raise me up, I shall never again engage 
in it." 



CPRING is again opening, and the 
war seems just begun ! 

A young French nobleman has ar- 
rived, having embraced voluntarily the 
American cause ; the love of freedom, 
and a desire to succor the oppressed, 
were his only incentives. The Marquis 
de la Fayette has been appointed a 
Major-Gene ral. He is not twenty years 
of age. A man of wealth, and used to 
the luxury of a court. 

Our cause assumes consequence in 
the eyes of foreign powers. Even poor 
Major Musgrave speaks with greater 
moderation of probable success in quell- 
ing "the revolt." 



March 6tli. 



/// 



AiucriCi in Revolution . 



Monde 



J 



AMES PARKER, a farmer near by, 
was driving home late last evening, 
from the town; the night was uncom- 
monly dark ; he passed a large tree ; 
behind it stood a man with a loaded 
gun. A voice called out to the travel- 
ler to stop; it was. unheeded. The 
robber fired and hit him ; he fell off his 
seat and expired I 

The horses took fright, and running 
three miles, came to a noted tavern 
kept by Increase Carpenter, where they 
stopped under a shed, and stood still un- 
til morning, when they were discovered 
with their sad burthen, the dead man ! 
The goods in the wagon were of course 
untouched, owing to the horses running 
away. The indignation of the people 
is without bounds, and very active mea- 
sures of defence are talked of. 



'^O-DA Y took Edith into Major Mus- 
grave's room, he having expressed 
a wish to see the kind lady who had sent 
him so many dehcacies made by her 
own hand. She has many admirers; 
soldiers and ploughmen, lettered and 
unlearned, the peaceful disciple of her 
own quiet sect, and the officer with 
epauletted shoulder and sword on side. 
She is lovely and captivating, but 

" Securely she smiles on the forward and bold. 
They fee] what they owe her, and feel it untold." 

Yesterday I saw her pass the window 
with a gallant at her side. The contrast 
between them— she in her little close 
bonnet, grey dress, and sober nn'en, and 
the gay officer in scarlet regimentals- 
was very striking. Edith's eyes were 
cast down to the ground, while his were 
fixed upon her sweet face pleadingly. 



Thursday. 



! 



4* 



/// 



American Revolution. 



I heard him say, in a low tone, " Oh, 
Edith, how sluiU I win your favor'?" 

I can tell him ; he will not win it 
unless he relinquish the warrior's craft. 
To Edith, all "the pomp and circum- 
stance of glorious war" is shrouded in 
gloom. "The shrill fife and spirit- 
stirring drum" drowneth not in her ear 
the groan of the wounded, the cry of 
the dying. Amid the din of arms, she 
listeneth to the widow's wail ; and when 
the shout of victory rises, she sees the 
orphan's tears ! 

Do you know, dear husband, that 
papa and I are much of her way of 
thinking of late? although it needed 
not Edith's eloquent defence of peace 
to convince us. I long for the hasten- 
ing of the day when " the nations shall 
not learn war any more, nor lift* up 
sword an-ainst nation ; but the sword 



American Revolution. 



shall be turned into the ploughshare, 
and the spear into the pruning hook." 

I suppose you will say, "So be it" — 
after our independence is secured ! 

QUR vines are putting forth; the 
grass is springing; all nature has 
put on her lovely garb of green. The 
children are full of joy; it is difficult to 
keep them to their tasks ; but through 
the long winter they have been more 
industrious. Charles is quite a profi- 
cient in study, his grandpa thinks. I 
hope you may not have reason to be 
ashamed of him. This weary absence 
maketh sick the heart; but I will not 
dwell upon the sad subject; it pains 
you to hear me repine. I trust God in 
his providence will so order the course 
of events, that all will work together for 
good. I will try to bear without mur- 



1777 



Tuesday^ 
May I St. 



1777 



American Revolution. 



muring whatever He in his wisdom 
may send. 

" They also serve who only stand and wait." 



Thursday. jV/JAJOR MUSGRAVE'S wound is 
quite healed, but he is still low 
and feeble. Nature appears to have 
struggled hard with some deep inward 
grief, which is striving for the mastery; 
he has great fortitude, but may, notwitli- 
standing, sink under it. I fear so. I 
would not for worlds intrude on his pri- 
vate sorrows ; but oh, that I could share 
and alleviate them I 

Friday. 'T^HE farmers have devised a scheme 
to make known through the neigh- 
borhood the presence of the " Runners." 
They are generally seen lurking about 
at twilight, spying the points most favor- 
able for attack ; if observed, they walk 



Jmcrican Revolution. 



Ill 



on in an unconcerned manner, whistling 
or singing. Sometimes they will stop, 
and inquire the way to some place;' 
suddenly disappearing, they are unex- 
pectedly seen again in the edge of the 
wood, or from behind a hay-stack in the 
field, peering about, terrifying every 
body, above all women and children. 
These signs are not to be mistaken. 
We are on our guard; the "great gun" 
w.th which all are provided, is loaded 
and fired off Pop I Pop. g„ ^^^ 
answering guns for five miles round; 
each house takes up the alarming tale' 
and thus it spreads, warning of impend- 
ing danger, and frightens away the 
enemy, for that time at any rate. 



;fSjEIGHBOR Pattison, of his peace- 

loving spirit, and horror of the 

" murderous weapon," hath made a large 



Aug. nih. 



1777 



American Re'coli/tion, 



conch-shell do the office of a gun; it 
makes a noble sound, and being close 
in our vicinity, is a well-known signal. 
Charles no sooner hears it, than he is on 
the alert ; out comes papa's rusty great 
gun, whose loud report is soon responded 
to by the whole neighborhood. 

Tuesday. (^ONGRESS has passed important 
resolutions, and increased General 
Washington's power, investing him with 
unlimited command. They are endea- 
voring to rouse the people by an impres- 
sive Address. Benjamin Franklin, Silas 
Deane, and Arthur Lee, are sent to so- 
licit aid of foreign powers. 



Wednesday. "jy/TAJOR MUSGRAVE seems very 

feeble ; it is doubtful whether he 

survives the winter. It is affecting to 

see him, he is so weak and helpless, yet 



Ajjierican Revolution, 



patient and uncomplaining. On going 
into his room to-day, he appeared to be 
reading old letters, and was evjdently 
much moved. I assured him of my 
hearty sympathy; he said with emotion, 
"Oh, dear madam, why do you pity 
me ? you, who know nought of the past." 
" I do commiserate your present con- 
dition ; is it not enough to call it forth ? " 
" It may be," replied Major Mus- 
grave. "But there are sufferings so 
deep, that the lassitude and decay of 
the body, although wrought by them, 
are unheeded, swallowed up by their 
intensity; even the pang of death is 
subdued by the peace which it heralds." 
As the Major did not offer to unbur- 
den his mind to me, I took up Bishop 
Jeremy Taylor'^ "Holy Living and 
Dying," which my father so delighteth 
in, and asked whether I should read to 



1777 



^777 



American Rc-colution. 



him. He assented gratefully, and I read 
an appropriate comforting passage. 



Septembc 



'^EWS of the battle of Brandywine. 
The troops mostly fought bravely, 
but the day was against us. The young 
French marquis is wounded; my hus- 
band, I trust, is safe. Let me continue 
to put my trust in the Almighty arm. 
He only can deliver. 

My father frequently sits an hour or 
two with the Major, whose mind is 
enriched to a degree that makes him 
an instructive, as wxU as a delightful, 
companion. Even religious subjects my 
dear father does not avoid (he could 
not if he would) ; he tells me that he 
finds in the Major an understanding lis- 
tener, appreciating states of mind and 
points of faith, which he scarcely ex- 
pected from one in Jus walk of life. 



American Revolution, 



X^TE were awakened in the dead of 
night by the sound of the conch- 
shell I Oh, dear husband, I cannot de- 
scribe to you our consternation. Our 
turn, I thought, had at length come I 
My first thought was my precious father, 
old and feeble ; the second of the poor 
Major. They have both rooms on the 
first floor. The children clung to me 
with terror. I felt so powerless I Not 
so Charles, he was bold as a lion — your 
true son ! He 2:)romptly got out the 
great gun, and loaded and fired it, which 
more than all frightened poor Marcia, 
and Grace. In vain I bade them be 
pacified; they hid their faces in my 
gown; the little things trembled with 
fear. 

Major Musgrave ordered his two men 
to their points of defence. I persuaded 
papa to go up stairs ; he appeared calm 



777 



Nov. \oth. 



1777 



American Rccolution. 



and self-possessed amid our agitation. 
We now listened intently ; not a sound 
did we hear, but the ticking of the great 
clock, and our own beating hearts. 
Again and again we listened ; all was 
still. We remained almost motionless 
until the dawn of day. The first ray of 
light was hailed with joy. Charles stole 
over to neighbor Pattison's, expecting, 
yet dreading to hear a tale of horror, 
when lo I they greeted him with a great 
burst of laughter! Now, what think 
you was the cause, the innocent cause of 
all this fear and consternation*? Little 
Joseph Pattison ! This is the story of 
it: 

At noon the elder boys, while stand- 
ing around the porch, one after the other 
had been trying the strength of their 
lungs on the great conch-shell, calling 
the hired men to their dinner. Joseph 



America II Rc-colution. 



/// 



was eagerly waiting Jus turn, but it never 
came at all. The meal was ready, the 
shell was put away on the high shelf 
over the door, and dinner over they 
all went to work again. 

Now little Joseph's imagination that 
night, strongly impressed with his dis- 
appointment, ran upon robbers, and the 
urgent necessity of sounding the shell. 
Up he sprang, ran down stairs, through 
two rooms, still asleep, took a chair, 
reached the conch, and blew it most 
lustily outside the back door, which 
roused the household. Down they 
come, and their astonishment is great 
to behold the little boy with the sea- 
shell in his hand, and, though undressed 
and barefooted, perspiration standing in 
beads on his forehead from the violent 
exertion ! Would that our frights might 
always prove as groundless ! 



/ / y 



Amcrk \ I n Revolution. 



MonJjy. 



O 



X cvcrv Moiuhiv exorcising is prac- 
tised o[>posite our lunise. 'l\vcla\, 
when the nianani\ riiiLr was over, a nian 
who had been iound intoxicated the 
night betore, was stri[vped and whij-iiH^l 
severely, with a rattan, till the blood 
streamed down his back. Oh, it is 
dreadtiil to witness such horrors I I 
lied Ironi the sight, but the heart-piere- 
ing cries ot the poor creature tollowed 
nu\ I could no longer retrain troni 
runiiing out ot the house, and begging 
them to desist. They [xiid no attention, 
ar.d closed the gate u[H)n nie. 'Idie rat- 
X:\n struck his cheek, perha[\s by acci- 
dent, cut it open, and it bled terribly I 
1 screamed out " mirdir I" They were 
startled, and stopped. The a[^[H\iling 
look oi gratitude I received trom the 



x)or mamied soUiier was sweet reward. 
Mary Pattison, whose sympathy tor 



Anicrkan RcvoluLloii. 



Ill 



the suffering never failed, took the poor 
creature in; commiserating his pitiful 
condition, she dressed his wounds, which 
were frightfully deep, and like the good 
Samaritan, poured in the oil of conso- 
lation. 

The principles of this peace-loving 
Society are destined one day to cover 
the earth as the waters cover the sea. 
They are the same which our blessed 
Redeemer came to reveal, and sealed 
with his blood. They are Eternal 
'IVuth. " Love to God, and good will 
to man," He proclaimed ; and Love is 
written on the white ensign of the 
Prince of Peace ! 



r^AYS of agony and niglits of tears 

are my experience ; the agony of 

suspense, the tears of widowhood I In 

imagination T have no longer a hus- 



Friday, 



// 



Aincrk \ m Rrcoli/thn. 



band I He is slain on the field of battle, 
of which no tidings have come ; or the 
victim of neglected wounds and di:^- 
ease, he is in the hands of the enemy. 
If alive and at liberty, we surely should 
long ago have heard from him. How 
can I endure it? Oh, God, endue me 
with patience, ot I sink I Thy pro- 
tection is for those who trust in thee. 
Do I ? Oh, Lord, help me, I pray 
thee I 

My father meekly reproves my impa- 
tience, and so does Major Musgrave. 
The loncr-sufferinfr of the Ouakers is 
also a loud rebuke. The words of our 
blessed Saviour seem to be held by them 
in sacred remembrance : '' I was sick, 
and ye ministered unto me ; naked, and 
ye clothed me ; hungry, and ye fed me ; 
in prison, and ye visited me." 



Ajncrkan Revolution. 



.778 



HAT extremes there are in life I 
Robert Adams came last night 
to ask my father to unite him to Rose 
Wilson. It was strange to see two 
happy faces amid violence, gloom, and 
destruction. I was saddened when I 
thought how soon the joy beaming there 
would be clouded over in these stormy 
times. But when my father, whose heart 
is full of heavenly grace, pronounced his 
benediction upon the young, hopeful 
couple, mine responded a deep '''' Amenr 

Marcia went into the other room, and 
picked two white rosebuds off her bush, 
and some geranium leaves, which she 
tied up and gave to the sweet bride, 
who in purity and grace could almost 
vie with the flowers. 

The ceremony was performed in Ma- 
jor Musgrave's room, at his request. 
He was much affected, and gave them 



Jan. \otfi. 



'778 



Amcrkt ui Rccolution. 



each at parting a gold piece, and the 
blessing, ]ie said, of a dying man. 

After they departed, Major Musgrave 
said to me, '' Madam, will you do me tlie 
favor to sit with me a while "? I would 
unburden my mind while I have strength, 
and make a few requests of you." 

His faithful servant, Shultz, stood at 
the back of his chair. He is as atten- 
tive as a woman could be to the comfort 
and wants of his master, and a lo\ e ami 
pity passing hers, if that could be, speaks 
in his fice. He talked in a low tone, 
and walked quietly about the room. 

The Major intimated to him that he 
would be alone with me for a little time. 
He disposed the pillows gently about 
his master, and withdrew. 

" As regards the war," said Major 
Musgrave, after some conversation on 
oduT topics, " I will say to you, I regret 



American Revolution. 



1778 



having ever engaged in it, and had it 
pleased God to have spared my life, it 
was my determination to have retired 
from the service." 

I was surprised to hear this avowal, 
for a more loyal subject of King George, 
and dearer lover of England, cannot be 
found. Major Musgrave proceeded to 
say that it was a most wicked and un- 
natural war. - The very idea," said he, 
" of shooting down men who speak the 
same language and own a common ori- 
gin, is monstrous. My share in it hath 
pierced me with sorrow. 

"I shall never be able," he continued, 
'' to show the sincerity of my repentance ; 
but, my dear madam, I speak the truth 
before the Searcher of hearts. You will 
believe this, my solemn asseveration. 
Time is drawing to a close. It hath 
pleased God to try me and sift me sorely 



1778 



American Rcvoluthn. 



in this lite. I have grievously rebelled 
against his will; have murmured, have 
mourned, have wept, have agonized. 
JSIy spirit hath beat so long and unre- 
mittingly against the bars of the prison- 
house, that at last it sinks weak and 
powerless. And it is in this passive, 
childlike state, that the first germs of 
daybreak, the first faint whispers of 
hope and peace, have visited me. And 
yet the strength is wanting now, to 
sing the song of praise and thanks- 



I was awed to witness the devotional 



state ot mind to which divine 



n-race 



ha( 



brought Major Musgrave. 

He continued. 

" And now, my dearest lady, how ccni 
I express my overflowing gratitude to 
you ? I who have been so burdensome, 
who have trespassed so long and so 



American Revolution. 



much on the truest, the most patient 
kindness?" 

My heart leaped at this noble acknow- 
ledgement of the little we had done. 
I assured him that we should be rejoiced, 
and amply repaid, to feel assured that 
we had alleviated one pang, or beguiled 
one hour of his suffering mind and body. 
And when I remember, dear Edward, 
the day the poor wounded man was 
brought here, how troubled and willing 
to be rid of the charge I was, conscience 
smote me, and I felt that I deserved no 
thanks. The edifying contemplation of 
such patient sorrow and unselfishness is 
worth purchasing, at ten times the in- 
convenience. 

Major Musgrave continued. 
" I have one request to make, which 
I trust your honored father will not be 
displeased with. It is, that my body 



1778 



>77S 



u4mcrh \ i n Rcvoluthn, 



nia\' be laid in tho Frioiuls' hurial-{>huH\ 
Tho drsiro 1 l\a\o cxi-irosscJ will pro\ r 
tlu^ intluoiuH^ which thtMr princi['>lc\s ha\ o 
obtained upon niv mind; \\\\ admira- 
tion ot opinions so now to mc is groat. 



The nei»:;hboiini;- tamiU', the Tattis 



on 



tamilv, \\o -^o beautitulK' entoive and e\- 
emi-'lilN' them, the head oi it especMalK'. 
1 have, and shall e\er \enerate the 
Chureh ot England, the ehuivh ot \\\\ 
fore tat hers, ot" m\ mother. But the 
peaeetul tenets ot this sim[ile people 
come home so to mv state, shedding sueh 
balm AwA repose over a wounded s[Mrit, 
that I trust the desire to tind a last rest- 
iuii-place with thiMii will be regarded." 

He recjuested that the ser\ iee tor the 
burial ot" the dead should be read at his 



I assured Major Musgrave o\ \\\\ 
SMiipatln' and apfircx^ation ot his tecl- 



American KcvoiuUon, 



1778 



\\\'^'/'. Nor do I think tiiis vXv.iWH: to be 
wonflrr^d at in oik: {w \\ from witness- 
ing and fxpfricnrin;/, in liis own per- 
son, the sirkening iiorrors and dreaflful 
evils of War. My c)wn wretelieri sus- 
pense and anxiety doubtless lias its influ- 
ence. 1 am trying Xo write doujn tkoi/^kl; 
to beguile myself a hrtle wliile of mise- 
rable frars. 

The Major plaeed in my liands a 
manuseript. He said he had written it 
f(>»r my perusal, wi iiing Xo aequaint me 
with liis past exj)eriene-e ; but feeling 
too aeutely still to do so verbally. He 
refj nested me to present his watch to 
my father, gave a valuable ring contain- 
ing a brilliant to me, and a memento to 
each of tfu: children. His considf:ration. 
and compcjsure were so sweet and touch- 
ing, tliat they affected me, and I could 
not refrain from tears. 



1778 



American Revolution. 



I hastily quitted the room, fearing to 
excite my dear friend, and knowing that 
he required rest. 



Monday 
Morning. 



/^H, dear husband, it is a mournful 

thing to contemplate I A man full 
of gentle courtesy, of sensitive and 
shrinking delicacy, receiving at the hands 
of strangers, in the attitude of their 
enemy, all of sympathy or earthly sup- 
port that he can receive in his dying 
moments I It grieves me inexpressibly. 
In such circumstances all animosity of a 
public nature is completely swallowed 
up. It must be a heart of stone that is 
not moved, melted to pity ! 



Tuesday. 



JJEAVEN be praise. 



! We ha\'e 



just heard of your safety, and of 



the surrender, though it happened so 1 



onii 



smce. 

102 



American Rccolutlon, 



.778 



General Arnold lias gained a bright 
laurel in the affair; lie [)r()ved himself a 
skilful and brave officer. The surren- 
der excites great astonishment among 
the British hereabouts. " Discretion 
the better part of valor," thought Bur- 
goyne, his troops worn out, and his situa- 
tion becoming more and more critical. 

Our letters, stained and yellow, looked 
indeed as though they had come from 
the wars. I suppose we receive only 
about one in six. 

The American cause seems to assume 
a brighter aspect since this event. It 
will doubtless inspire confidence* in its 
ultimate success. The cause of free- 
dom — Heaven grant it I 



npHERE is . an old proverb which 

saith, " It is an ill wind which blows 

nobody good." The Hessians and sol- 



Monday. 



778 



Aincrkan Revolution. 



diers billeted about here for six months 
past, left to-day for the mainland cam- 
paign, and the robbery, from which we 
have for some time been exempt, will 
now go on again. The villains feared 
the soldiery; dreadful tax as it is to 
keep them., it is nothing in comparison 
to the other evil 



TJiursday. ^HE robbers have beJn over already; 
they landed last night at the har- 
bor. In the dead of night they sur- 
rounded the house of John Pearsall. 
He is called rich, and there is no doubt 
they tounted on large booty. Their 
first care is generally to prevent escapes, 
lest the alarm should be given to the 
neighbors. Whenever they have rea- 
son to think that any one has escaped 
to inform, they invariably scamper, fear- 
ing surprise. On finding his house so 



American Revolution. 



hemmed in, Mr. Pearsall, who was the 
only man in the house, made a great 
noise and blustering, calling Tom, John, 
and Harry to load and fire, then ran to 
the top of the house with the gun, and 
fired three times in quick succession. 
The robbers took the alarm, jumped 
into the boat, and shoved off! They 
were fired upon, but I do not know 
whether injured, but trust not, for they 
surely are not fit to die. 

Major Musgrave still lingers. I found 
him very weak to-day, but in no pain, 
for which I desire to be thankful. He' 
appeareth very sad at times; was so to- 
day. I tried to soothe and comfort him, 
assuring him again that I would attend 
to all his wishes; write a particular ac- 
count to his mother, whom he fondly 
loves, of his last words, of his constant 
consideration and thoughtfulness of 



1778 



778 



American Revoluthn. 



others, his patience, and of his hope of 
pardon and peace, vouchsafed to him in 
the holy calm and perfect reliance which 
he is often favored to experience. 

I besought him to cast all his care 
upon Him who careth for us. We re- 
mained for a few moments in sweet and 
solemn silence, and when I rose to leave 
the room, and remarked that I thought 
he was in a peaceful frame of mind, the 
poor man, or rather the rich mari^ bowed 
his head in assent, and said, " Bless the 
Lord, O my soul. All that is within 
me, bless his holy name." 



Saturday 
Evening. 



A TALE of horror has just come to 
our ears ; we have not heard the 
details, nor do I wish to, they are so 
horrible. It seems the Runners entered 
the house of John Wilson, and threat- 
ened, until the wife, to save the life of 



American Revolution, 



1778 



her husband, revealed the hiding-place. 
But it was too late ; he died the next 
morning from a sabre-cut which he then 
received, cleaving the skull and occa- 
sioning so great loss of blood. The vil- 
lains took a large sum of money, which 
was in silver coin, in bags under the 
hearthstone. Mr. Wilson was much 
beloved in the neighborhood ; his death 
produced the greatest excitement and 
indignation. 

I went over to Henry Pattison's this 
evening; he, with his wife, had just re- 
turned from the scene of the dreadful 
catastrophe; 'they never witnessed any 
thing more distressing than Mrs. Wil- 
son's state — wringing her hands continu- 
ally with grief and horror, and at times 
quite out of her mind. A great com- 
pany is out in search of the robbers. 



1778 



Aincrii\ in Rrcoliition. 



MomL 



'TPWO out of three were taken last 
evening, the other had gone off 
with the money. It is said that the 
serving girl connived with the thieves, 
one of whom was her cousin. How 
awful to contemplate I I suppose Tory 
influence will screen them; they were 
sent to New York this morning strongly 
guarded. The times are so disordered, 
that we have to keep still, and bear 
everything; complaint seemeth utterly 
useless. 



Tiiesdav. 



JUST received the joyful news of the 
Treaty of Alliance with France. My 
heart beats tremulously with hope and 
expectation, and yet I scarcely know 
what to hope for. Can I, a woman, 
wife, and mother, delight in warfare, or 
desire the destruction of the children of 
a common origin ? No ! May God 



American Revolution. 



1778 



of his merciful goodness grant a speedy 
termination of the war ! This be my 
prevaihng, my fervent prayer. 

It is thought the news of General 
Burgoyne's surrender decided the nego- 
tiations, by giving strong encourage- 
ment. 

My father is very quiet about the 
news; he longs for peace, but cannot 
turn against his dear native England. 
He loves her with all her provocation, 
or in spite of it. 

Nor have I spoken of the treaty to 
Major Musgrave, but would rather spare 
his feelings; he is too low to be dis- 
turbed with human affairs. 



A BAND of ruffians entered the house 

of Mr. Miller at East Hampton, at 

midnight, when the men folk were 

absent. Mrs. Miller caught up her 



Thursday. 



1778 



American Revolution. 



youngest child, an Infant, and ran out 
at the back door ; the next, a little boy 
of four years, crept under a table to get 
out of sight. But one of the creatures 

spied him, and saying, " Here's a d d 

little rebel," stuck his poignard into his 
thigh, making a severe wound. Think 
of the savage hardness of the heart of 
the man, who would inflict injury upon 
an innocent helpless child ! 



Monday. A SCENE took place at neighbor 
Pattison's the day before the red- 
coats left, which I will note down for 
your amusement ; for when the battles 
are fought, the victory won, and we sit 
down beneath our own vine and fig-tree, 
to con together these pages, we will 
weep and smile over them, and bless 
Heaven that the trials and dangers are 
past. 



American Revolution. 177^ 



Well, Edith hath been sadly perse- 
cuted of late by one of the officers, Cap- 
tain Morton. And I am of opinion that 
she would rather favor his suit, if he 
were anything but a soldier; but love 
will not run away with her judgment. 
He is a high-spirited, noble-looking 
young man, and desperately in love 
with Edith, which surely is not to be 
wondered at. Being constantly in her 
train in their time of leisure, several 
gentlemen have become enamored of 
her. 

On this occasion she was in the sitting- 
room, spinning. I heard that Captain 
Morton had said that he would waste 
all day to see Edith spin. Indeed she 
does look serenely beautiful, and stately, 
as, with measured though light step, she 
throws the great wheel, while her deli- 
cate fingers hold the slender thread. 



The wheel as i: i^oes round makes a 
monoronous, sad sound whieh 1 love :o 
hear. So, oUen when Bridget spins, 1 
open the door of the upper r«.XMii, that 
the sound thereof may reach me be- 
low, where I sit sewing, or teaching 
the children. It reminds me of the 
fall winds amon^: the withered leaves, 
or the disrant sound of rushing wa- 
ters. 

^^\"/.. I doubt not Edith was enjoy- 
I ins: her own pure and peaeetul thoudits, 
when. Captain Morton entered the roon^;. 
She was gT"ieved to see him, thinking 
and consoling herself that he had wholly 
left these partSs in that she heard no tid- 
ings of him for m;my days. 

He began abruptly to speak, say- 
ing, 

'* Edith, vou ha\ e not seen m.e lor 
some time, in accordance with ^ou: 



A merit \ / // A\ ^: vluthn. 



177S 



wish; I have been niaking trial ot my 
power ot selt-eontrol. Look at me; 



behold nu' 



success ; 



She directed her attention to the young 
man, and was struck with the change 
which was manit'est in liis appearance. 
From the handsome, tine-looking Bri- 
tisher that he was, he had become pale, 
stooping, and hollow-eved. 

"Give me ho[H\ or I die; some word 
ot comtort ; a look or tone ot love ; 
some promise tor \\\\ thoughts to teed 
on, to sustain nu^ in absence. To-mor- 
row with this precious boon I go; with- 
out it, this is my resource." 

Tluis sa}'ing, the desperate young- 
man took his pistol from his side, and 
pointed it at his breast. Edith was ter- 
riiied, but preserving that cjuietness ot' 
nianner which belongs to the people ot' 
their sect, she let't her wheel, and gently. 



1778 



American Resolution, 



but firmly, took the pistol out of his 
hand, and laid it aside. 

The officer made no resistance : but 
seemed as though beneath a spell. The 
spell was the serene sweetness and com- 
posure of her demeanor. 

" The intemperance thou showest," 
said Edith, " would intimidate me from 
forming any closer intimacy with thee. 
Besides, how dost thou think it would 
seem to my parents and to Friends, that 
I should contract an en^ag-ement with 



one who holds it no wron2: to lift 



up 



sword against his fellow-man ? " 

"Edith, do not set down against me 
that in which I had no control. Am I 
to be blamed for being bred to the 
profession of arms, that I am become 
the instrument of power to suppress 
the rebel colonies '? The members of 
your Sobriety are generally supposed 



AmcriCi in Revolution. 



1778 



to be on the side of the Mother Coun- 
try." 

'*It Is true," said Edith, "they are 
called 'Tories, but unjustly, as they espouse 
neither cause. From their great princi- 
ple, 'Resist not evil,' and submission to 
the powers that be, they are opposed to 
the rising of the people against the 
Mother Country." 

(Her father, I have a strong suspi- 
cion, wishes, though very cautious, suc- 
cess to the cause of freedom.) 

Captain Morton said, "You surely, 
Edith, wish to see the rebellion quelled, 
and order and quiet restored ? " 

" I desire peace most fervently ; but 
you, our brethren, have oppressed us 
wrongfully, trodden upon our rights, 
and domineered over us until patience 
hath had hei* perfect work, and seemeth 
to be no longer a virtue. And I will 



.778 



Amcncdii Revolution, 



venture to prediet that the side which 
so wise, so temperate, so just a man as 
George Washington leads, will be the 
successtul one. Heaven will smile 
upon it." 

The Captain was certainh' surprised 
at this earnest ebullition ot teeling, and 
disa[^pointed too. But his love over- 
bears all, and makes him take rebuke 
trom Edith most patiently. 

He said he would retieet upon her 
remarks: his hopes seemed to have 
risen, whv, she knew not: he took her 
hand in liis, and pressed it to his lips. 
She promised to remember him with 
kindness, and they parted. 

She will doubtless hear trom him 
aiiain, which I think she will not reixret.'^' 



■•' I'his your.g otlicer's love for Edith k\i him to 
remain in this country after independence was 

116 



Anicv'n\ m Rrcoli/tioii. 



1778 



'T^HE British Ministry begin to speak 
of American artliirs with more mod- 
eration. It is probably the efteet of tlie 
tate of their Northern Army, and the 
AUiance with France. Lord North hiid 
before Parhament bills for conciliation, 
and commissioners are appointed to 
bring terms of accommodation. The 
day is passed for that. Two years ago 
perhaps reconciliation might have been 
effected ; but we ha\ e proceeded too 
tar, we are too sanguine ot success, to 
admit now^ of listening to any terms, 
but acknowledgment of our indepen- 
dence. 

acl\ic\'cd, and, in the course of time, and through 
her influence, he became a consistent member of the 
Society of Friends, and her beloved, and loving hus- 
band. 



May ^th. 



117 



i::S 



ii //I'tV Vt '.. 4 /; RlW)4u /.<//;. 



MviJ^jv, A/TAJOK MlScaiAN K is no more. 
7«;i^ i6//;. jij. ^,,,j,tiiot is ON or, and he slccp- 

eth in pcaco. 

Mn lather luui been nuieh with liini 
durin^^- the day. He was distressed at 
times with ditlieultv in hreathini;. In 
an interval ot quiet he read to him (^my 
tatiier^ the beautit'ul \isitation ol' the 
Siek. Those ec")n";tortable words seenu\l 
Hke the dew to the parehed herbage ; 
his soul drank them in and was retreshed. 
In an hour after he lell asleep, and we 
thought the summons mii;ht be delated 
some time longer: but at midnight I 
was ealled by Shulrz. 1 went cjuiekl) : 
but wheii I leaned oxer the bedside to 
cateh the taintest whisper, the d) ing 
man tried to s[H\ik but eould not. He 
pressed mv hand, and raised his e)es to 
heaven: this aetion, and the inetlably 
gratetul expression ot his eountenanee 



said, as plainly as words could, ''God 
Mess you ! " 

Major Musgrave had become so near 
in synnpathy and interest to us all, 
that it seems like the loss of a dear 
friend. 

It costs us some effort to obey liis 
injunction as regardeth liis last resting- 
place. It seems to my father a strange 
request; but it shall be held sacred. 



n^HE body was to-day laid in the 
green burial-ground, near the meet- 
inn:-h(;use of the Friends. It was fol- 
lowed to the place by three companies 
of soldiers, marcliing to the solemn 
music and the muffled drum. 

The sublime and impressive words of 
the Burial Service were read by my dear 
father. How they appeared to awe 



Thursday 
Evening. 



every one 



119 






^l.r: '^jt is hrn ^f <t uvffu/t kt/h hut 
fa IkYy and is /t/il qf misetY. 
> a/id is rt/t d^f^n iih' a^fftKCvr ; 
.:,» //tcvn? a shad0^L\ ami fitwr (W> 

'V\\c<c words oo:uc\ .i nunirnUil los- 
on, but rhoso whi^^h tolKnv arc tull ot 



" / k\mf a zmrfivm hxnYff sariffg twht 
mt\ irrite from hcthrcfirthy Blessed a/r ^e 
dead XLho die i/i M«* Lprd {ifi fai/h ami loiv 
A? fiim) I Eivn sOy saith fhe Sj>irit; for fhev 

i rest ffvm Mcvr lahrs.^^ 

The tiring over the de.ul .iw.ikening 

■ thoughrs ot srrite aiui b.Ktle. nwis in 
paintiil eontrast to these htc^-gi\ing 

I \\\K\ls. The eehoes ot that peav-ctul 
S[Hn had ne\er betore been thus awak- 
ened. Though nianv soldiers ot the 
eross he there, this is tlie tirst. and \\kc\\ 

I to be the onl\, instanee on reeord, c>t a 



Antcrkan Kcvolutwn, 

'-<Mu-v of carflily cofrjfm ami carnal 
wf aj.ori . taking there hb last rest 

'IfiT^: h no f^fofK: to mark tht spot; 
1^^^' 'V ;i young ircr: growing near / 
k/i07/ if, arjrj my thoughts will offcfi 
visit it 

/V ^'^»^('f; -M'l <liy: no n<:7/-. from 

^l''-ol;if'- ! 'Jnr: rrjr.w/j'rj;/ or.Mij.aMon 
;:or/<-, rny \i:iu<\-, hang idly, whilr anxi^rty 
'if'^1 ^arf: rrir/fi wl^ljirj. Kvcn xU: chil- 
dfn', prattlr: -^ounds diocorrjant; to a 
H]otljr:r\ rar, wliirfj jg attiincd only to 
.stories oi -AiAfMCi; arirl outrdf^c^ which 
ar'- '/i fairjiliar tfjry oyj.iU; rjo surprise. 
Y' f f'-ar, and rjr^arj, arjd lir^rror, never 
i\'<- a 7/ ay. 

I v/ill Mfivf:, jf-j, rlr-.jjair tak^ entire 
|>o,v:-,-jon of rny .soiil ; anrj, '-'faint, 
'^'>'i;'!i pur ..iin;^;' folirr// tfjf; mL^rred 



T/^ 



FriJ/iy. 



1778 



American Revolution. 



path my Saviour trod, that leads to 
peace enduring, and a crown of joy. 
" He is a strength to the needy in his 
distress; a refuge from the storm; a 
shadow from the heat." 



Saturday. T HAVE been employed to-day in 
putting up with great care everything 
belonging to Major Musgrave, that they 
may be sent, when occasion offers, to 
his friends in England. In a little box 
of spice-wood (of which he gave me 
the key) I found the packet of letters 
and papers left for my perusal, and put 
them away for some future time. Re- 
collection is too fresh now. 

The consciousness that my feeble 
efforts were made to assuage his grief 
(and it is my conviction that Major 
Musgrave's sorrows w^re deeper than 
met the eye), to smooth his passage to 



American Revolution. 



1778 



the tomb, and to comfort his last hours 
with sympathy and care, is full of in- 
ward peace and satisfaction. 



T RECEIVED, dearest Edward, to- 
day, your charming letter of the 1 5th 
August. 

The arrival of the French fleet, twelve 
ships of the line and four frigates, under 
command of Count d'Estaigne, is joyful 
news. « 

The British troops remain inactive in 
New York since the battle of Mon- 
mouth. The American loss that day 
was small; but the great heat occa- 
sioned many deaths, and much grievous 
suffering in both armies. 

I look forward to the day with trem- 
bling eagerness when all shall be over, 
and we shall be in the enjoyment of the 
peace earned so dearly ; for though jjw/. 



Tuesday. 



iu\ dear Kvlw.ird, ncNcr stopped to 
count the oost, when \ou cMilist(\l hte, 
liniK and tortune in tho o.uiso. / o.ir.nvM 
iiclp rl\inkinc sonu times, in nn <\c- 
spondini;" nuMuents. that the risk ot ht(^ 
and hnil\ ne^leet ot attaiis. loss ot p:\>- 
pertN. ot health, ot cmsc\ ot eonttoit. is 
the tientendovis priee ot lihert\. \"ou 
sa\ *' she is worth tc^n tintc\< as nians 
S;iorit;ees, it eouKl be, than tlu^se e\cMt/" 
She nia\ bc^ to ihose sur\ i\ ini; to en]o\ 
aiul reap her laurels, but j\itriotisni in 
♦♦;v breast, just now, is too taint a 
spark to L^lorN in perspeeti\e, in a 
hero's ineniorv, thoui^h (anb.ilnu\l in 
tears ! 

It seen\eth too dear .u sueh .i priet\ 
l>ear with nie, nu husband: \ ou know 





1 am soreK tried. I will stri\e tor more 


patienee aiid submission, and eonunir 


tin pveeiou< liti^ to tlu^ eaic^ ot lliin. 



American Kroolulion. 



wltfj'>i]t whom \\{)\ a ,s|;arrow fallf:f}i to 
tfif ^(rounrl. 

Amifl all \\\i: froi]!)If: anrl ^^Ior>rTi :m\- 
rr;ijriflinrr. a liirlir;rous inriflf-nt- will \)\()- 
V(jkr: a siriilr:. 

T AST ni;j}jr tfjf; Piunnfirs a|;pf;an:(l 

rourifl a fioii-,f: rirar Wr-.st-Town, and 

were al)r)ut forring a clr>r;r in front w}K:n 

ffif-y wrrf," Hi ,(;ovf:rffl. .Irj}jri P\awlins, 

tfif: ownrr, sf-nr a nrr^ro up stairs to firr: 

wfif-n rhr v/r>Ri was given, ft was a 

bri/jht nir>r;nli!:.^}it nigfit, and hr: saw t'hf: 

creatures strj) up tr; tlir rloor from a 

wirujow nrar it witfi a parif; (;f glass out. 

\n alarm, hr: l(;okf;(l out for ^omrthinr'- 

o 

vvlif:rr-wit}i to rjcf rifl }iijnsf:If ; seeing the 
br(;om, })f: took it f jr want of somr tliin-^ 
better, and ran it through the hrc^ken 
wirifiow. It touelied \\\i: sliouldfT, and 
grazed the ehc^k of one of tlie villains, 



// 



We.dnf.sday. 



\ 77S Jmrrtf\m R.\ 

\vlu\ :^vipjHV<ing it tv> bo a Kvuicvl gvin» 
oriovi out pitci>u:>l\\ **Oh. ho.u cns^ vivM^t 
kill mo!" as though ho ]\,iJ no\or ,\n 
evil intention towards any v>no. 

rho signal was now j^Ixoti. anvl tho 
man alxno tiu\i: thoy soon soattoix\l» 
leaving Jown Rawlins aiming his hrvx^n- 
stick thivui:^ T^o S'\A('> \v *'>Jow-pano ! 

i^4-,\jj,;;.. IV rV pixvious taCiUi is v>MigOvi to i:\> 
to Now Yovk : it is to lum a 
girat unviortakii\g. Ho Jroa^ls impovli- 
monrs of every kind, having arrivovi at 
tho aco so toolingly desorihovi in hoh 
writ, *'\\"lun tho grasshopper shall bo a 
burden, and desire shall tail, and toars 
I *^hall bo in tho wa\ ." 

FfiM. ^\U\ \c\\ this nuM-ning vP-M'-^ -^'^^^ 

Charles^ in tho ohaviv^. lloooixovl 

a condoling aiul Sv'oUiing letter tVo:n 

Aunt Harbara. v'^lio vlwolls tO(^lin::l\ on 



j^merkan Revolt/ 1 /oti.. 



.778 



yoii, in f}i;if y<;ii havf jr>lriffl \\m- r^-bf|s, 
whose raijsf, f-l-r a[)|>fars to t})irik, Is 
that of ariarcliy, crnifiraon, ano' insuhor- 
fliDMtifui. "Shf! (In-ads to look at th^; 
fjid to whir}) if will hrlfif^^ u', ; <':onrj,v;a- 
tion, rr>ritijiiKly, and pfr}j;ip-; th^: forf<^:l- 
fnrr of liff." 

I)r ;ir, 'i/fiplf 'f,ij| ! 'f'fi^- prjs.HJhility 
of ff)'- .struggle hcing successful, anrj ffif 
yokr '.fj;jkrri off^ wvycx '.vrwv. tf> fiave 
f nfrrrri \\i\ ifr);i;.Mnatiori, f ',M{>[)Ose she 
pifif ', (till delusion, while we efniirTiise- 
I'.iU: h(7.\ ! Ifeavrn r^nly knows v/fiirfi 
fhf: most justly. 



JjO[;SIvniU':AKI\C;, hor,e--traling, 
■A\\<\ fhprfflahon are so riorTirnon, 
ff);it f ;in) w';iry oi notirjg fljrm down, 
;inf| }jay<- prrtfy nnjrjj erased to rjo so. 
[>uf a', an ineidcnt of:r;urred last night 
wliirf) iljir.f r.'iff-, .'mrl provf::, tfje power 



Saturda 



ly. 



u^m 



^mcric. in A\ \ viufion. 



of the Law of Love, it nuist not pass 
unrecorded. 

The Runners came over from the 
main shore to attack the house oi Ste- 
phen Willetts, a Quaker: he stands 
hii;h in the Society, is a {-ireacher, and 
devout man. The tamily liad retired : 
lie hrst took the alarm, and knew in a 
moment that his time of trial had come. 
He UKide (^he says^ a mental ejaculation 
oi [Ma>'er to God tor grace, to do and 
say the thing that was right. 

Thus led, who can doubt that his 
petition was granted'^ The demon of 
Fear was cast out by the angel ot Love. 
He threw open wide the door and said, 
'* Walk in friends, and warm )'oursel\ es, 
it is chillv this evening/' He threw 
wood o\\ the fire, and kept talking so 
kindh', that the men, though ever so 
evilly dis[H)sed, had not time to say a 



Aincriccin Re •vo/u/Zo//. 



77« 



w'oid. He then vvcnl and callt d al tlic 
ioot of the stairs for his servant; ''CiC- 
sar, come down ; get ready some suj)j)er 
for these friends. They must he very 
(old, and nvcd refreshment." Minced 
pies, meat and hread, were put uj)on the 
tabic, and cider ordered to he drawn. 

The rohhers looked at each other in 
silent amazement; hut the old man's 
kindness was so pressin^^, and seemed 
so liearty, it was out of their power to 
refuse ; so they sat down and j)art()ok 
of his good cheer. After they had eaten, 
Mr. Willetts told them when they wished 
their beds were ready. They were now 
completely overcome ; their hard hearts 
melted, making tliem as unahh; to begin 
tlie work of plunder as though bound 
in chains of iron I One of them spoke, 
and said that they had some distance to 
go on the morrow, and as they were nj). 



//' 



American Revolution. 



they might as well walk a few miles 
farther. They then thanked the Friend 
for his kindness, and bade him good 
night. As they walked out they could 
but ill conceal the knives and pistols 
they bore about them. 

Tuesday. y>APA and Charles safely returned; 
the latter much excited by all he 
saw, and the former cheerful and well, 
having met with no difficulties. I trust 
that he may be spared to see many good 
days, or ever the silver cord be loosed, 
or the solden bowl broken. 

Charles gave me a vivid description 
of the plains around Jamaica, which 
were filled with white tents, and pre- 
sented a pretty and lively aspect. In 
the village of Bruyklin, he says there 
are built many small one-story houses 
for the soldiers. 



Ajiierican Rcvohition. 



He saw a sight too in New York, 
which, with your repubHcan notions, 
dearest Edward, would excite httle emo- 
tion; but the very mention of which 
made the blood tingle in my veins. 
They saw a Prince of the blood royal ! 
Prince William Henry * ' 

He is about seventeen years old, very 
stout (my father thinks) for that age. 
The royal family are said to be inchned 
that way. King George is portly. The 
young Prince wears the British army 
uniform ; he has a pleasant countenance, 
but very crooked, knock-kneed legs, of 
which you must know papa is a keen 
observer, a handsome limb being in his 
eyes of no small importance in view of 
personal appearance. 

They saw the Prince passing down 



1778 



Afterwards King William IV. of England, 

131 



^779 



A merit', in Rci vlution. 



Oucon Street. My father took oif his 
hat as he walked near, aiul bade Cliarles 
do the same. This may be a ^reat 
weakness: but the seed sown in )outh 
by the honored dead, and nourished and 
grown with the growth, eannot be rooted 
out in a day. 

The French fleet has sailed tor the 
West Indies without having aeeom- 
plished anything ot importance^ being 
unsuccessful in all its enterprises. A 
great disappointment. Well, it no other 
good effect follows, its presence ins[>ired 
confidence in the CcMitinental arnu, 
and im]H)rtance in the eyes ot the 
enemy. 



T^HERE is great distress from the 
depreciation of our bills of credit ; 
it dispirits and enfeebles exertion. Gene- 
ral Washington sorely perplexed amid 



/line I /(, an Rccolullfm . 



\-~i'^Vj 



\\v. iiiurmurlrig rn^:r). IT':;iv^ri grant 

-.prcdy rrlirf! ''' ■'' ''' ''' ''' * 

ri'ljf; .Joiirnal i'. (hif.iA'w'c \\(:u\ and 



.':v(:ral It LLC r:-. arc wariLing.^ 



j^y\'] '1 J JO oi' (.'aindcn. i^tli AugiiSf. ; Sr-fd. irAh 

I f;irH foij;_^}it. Tfjc (Jorjtincntals i 
H'ff aff:H. i>arf>r) d': Kalb, a Prussian 
?/':ntIfinarj, 'Jain. 'V\\c '/-conrj officer in 
f;oii)marKl. 

'I'lic {ijc:i\(j jjarf of our force, mili- 
tia, w}jr> flcfl at fhf: fir,! fire, arjri f:r>ijl(l 
\\()\ \)(: rallicfl, w}jif;h I canrifjt finrl in 
my woman's licarL tr> cr^ruic-mn, rl^ar as 
frfcflom v. to its cvf;ry [)iilsc. I cmu so 
vividly fancy mysf:lf stariflinr/ lijj for tlic 
first time before tlic enemy's irmrflfrf^us 
hattf:rifs, and tlir: courar^e oozing out at 
my finger ends. 



-rso 


..■•' A.\ 




XM'NNS :.>-vi.iN v^t rlic .ivii\.il ot .m- 




o:;\cr V'tc^rA^h tlcci. ^c\cn ships 




ot the lino: (\v^oo l.i:ul trov^ps, Ovmw- 




in:indc\l b\ l\>r.n: Jo Uvvh.uulv.m. M 




Hluvlc Isl.iP.l. 




\\ lU t;i\c now liio to C\mu;ic\<s .uul 




tho arnw. 


cVAw/' 5. 


A MM' rrU tVoni my husb.md: srill 




nLion\c\ :\\c vSvHith li.nin^ now In^- 




oonio tho piinvMp.il sc\ir iM .lorion, whioh 




I do not ro^ic^t. Vhc V\c\\A\ tlcci \c- 




tuinc\l to Fr.inoo I Thus h.is ptMisl\c\l 




our hopo ot n.n.il .issist.moo. It scumus 




nn.uwHintaMo. Vhc luul tvMvos 10- 




niain. 


ThursJaw 


A OKKTl Y Intnostini:- doouniont 




tron\ 1'a1w.h\1, in whioh is i(\'Oi\l(\l 




;i most cictost.iblc^ .uul tl.it;i.uu instanoo 




ot tri\u4uMN". 



yitncruan RinMnlwrL 



j;^/ 



A jJot of C,r:n^ra) WsicAuX Arnold 
for ^^iving if»fo tfic hand'^. r/ ffif: tr\ni)y 
'\k- iortrr/'A oi Y/f-Ht Point I Who can 
\irv\f/\nf' what might have hcrm th*: rr:- 
ilv fj;iH rjot tljf: drr8picabhr df:?iign bf:f:n 
{;rovid'rjri;jlly frii?itratf:rl1? 

ArrjoM }j;j-. ;ir*'H v/ith hravfry in 
','-7'-r;il actions. It i'. '/iid tlir r,;i(j-/: r^f 
hi', dr^rirlful d'-f'-^tir^fi is that the laurels 
wfiir;h ///' wr;n at Saratoga were awarded 
to Ci^n'-ral (rdU'. by Congress, and }>iit 
litflf: riotiee taken r>f fiis valor on tfiat 
ocjXAon. \% this arjy ^xmj/: for Mi^ fj 
S;itarjic rrvrrir^^:V A Lad man, anrl 
fjever a true lovf-r of his country, 

A [;;itr)ot -yvoiilrl rjr-'iiri }ji', heart'--, hlood 
for Ij't, rvrj tfirxjgfi 'ije 'Jiould prove 
ijr)i'r;itrfij|. 



1 -.So 



jimcrhjfj Riwit/rfon, 



S.iturii<t\\ 



r^VWWW. CiKF.KNK iippolntca to 

the conuii.iiui ot the Southern d'\\\- 



sion. 



MvLuw ' 'npIllS neighborhood is still inteste.l 
with the odious Hessians. 'V\\c\ 
are so lilthv and la/.v, loun^in^^- about 
all daN' loni;", snu^kini;" and sleepni^;'. 
The patienee ot the ^^ood Friends is 
inexhaustible. Alter tillin^^- up tluMr 
parlors, kitehens, and bed-rooms, the 
whole winter with ehests, lu|uor-easks, 
hanuiioeks, bird-ea^es, L;uns, boots, and 
powder-tiasks, thev were last week or- 
dered to Jamaica. Oh the rejoieini;-! 
It tcw/A/ tiash out ot" the e)e, thoui^h 
their discreet toni;ues spake it not. 

The monuMit the Hessians took their 
leave Friend Pattison caused the broken 
places in the wall to be repaired, tc^- the 
Colonel's huh" had the room ornamented 



American RcvoluUon, 



1780 



all arourifl witfi 'Juffifl parrots, \)(:Y(}\cx\ 
on ,stif;ks (Irivrn iji tlu: wall. '\\\<: r^nar- 
\(\\y riirrtln^^ of tlif: Society is rjcar at 
hand. 'I li'y (■.x\>f(:\ frif:rifls and r^la- 
tif^ns to .str)|> witii tiifin, and rnakf: pre- 
parations for tfif:ir rr^-'ptlon. 

Wrll, all wrrr {)iitting tfjcir fiouscs in 
ordfT, wliffi the aj>];allingn(:wssprcad like 
w i I d f i rf : - " 'llu; Hessians are coming back /" 

liiinnin;,'; t(; \\\v. winrlcjw, I descried 
them in the distance like a eloud u{ 
loensts, (hisky arul flini ; but thf: fife 
and drum, assailing cjur ears, if wc 
ncrflcd addificnial evidence, convinced 
us that it was too true. ldif:y harl in- 
def;d been (ordered back. IIr)w many 



tears of vexation I st 



led : 



jyjAJOH ANDKK ! How my heart 

bleeds for liim I 'Tis truf: \w. was 

a spy, and lie dies the deat}i of a sj)y; 



Monday. 



1 -So 



American Revolution. 



but his \\\A\\\ noble tmits aiui :K\\>in- 
plishiuonts, Lirdoiu tcin[HM-:inuMU, intropi- 
dir^' and goiuloncss, win iidnuration, and 
excite compassion and re^^iet. I cannot 
think ot' his bitter rate. General Wash- 
ington, it is thought, would ha\e granted 
his last affecting request \^to die by the 
musket\ but others sternly just, letused 
the boon, and he died ignoniinioush-. 

My lather knew his taniiK', and re- 
members him. A noble, hanvlsonie-look- 
iniT man; tall, and ot'a remarkably well- 
proportioned person. 

He is spoken ot" by tlie otlicers as the 
soul of honor. It seems strange that a 
person ot' his cliaracter clhiUI engage in 
such an undertaking. The noble senti- 
ment of Amor Patri:e becomes soiled 
when made the plea tor clandestine ac- 
tions, which will not bear the scrutin}" 
of justice, the light of day. 



Jmerkan Revolution. 



xy; 



Arjfi y\ \ i/ri(:\'(: at fji', -.arj rrjrl. I \ it 
onaaount r;f Iji , fasc;inat.ingqijalitict», r}jr: 
hlaridi'Jj;rj':rjt v/Iu'^Ij rarjk, b^:aijty, and 
f.hivalrfjus hf-ariri;/ r,a',t arourjd Ijiirj? 
CJr is it simply as a //^-i///; that: J {>ity arjrj 
(]f^)]()r(: hlni '^ 

I trij'.t fjf: wr^ulfj have my syrrjjjatljy, 
w'crf: lie. \}i<: }mui\j\(::-A privatf: Irj tfj^- 
Hrifi'h army. 

M;ijor Arjfjr^: had an urjfortijDat^: at- 
taf.hirjf:rjt, arjd di^d v/idj t}jf: rniniat ur^: 
(A t}jr: yrjurj^^ lady r]r/,f: t() }i\\ }i('d:^. 
An i;_^riorrjirjious df:at}j Ijow :-ijof.kirj;/ 
to }ji'. f^f: liners I 

r JfA\'i'> rjot: fjourarr^: y^t: to r^p^rj Ma- 'l acjia 

jor Mii'vgravf:'s njanu'/;ript, Ijavirjrr a 
presentinumt that it will b^: fjfa vf:ry sad* 
nafuff:. 

T TXT^") }jow many evanescent things Thursday. 

\\ Ijiiinarj lif^: lik f-ri^f] in JJolv Writ;! 



1 ;8o 


, 




"NN'h.it is vour lito "^ It is r\on ;i 




vapor th.it appcaivth tor a liitlr \\\\\c 




and then xanisluih a\\a\.*" 




"As thr night-w atv^li that is past. As 




a dream o\ the nicht."" 




"As tor man. his da\s -.wc as grass: 




as a tlowcM" ot the \\c\<\ ^o he tloiirishiMh. 




Fc>r the w ind passc^th in (M" it. and it is 




gone: aiul thc^ plaee tht^reot' shall know 




it no more." 


Tuf'sJjy. 


' 1 *HK neighborhood has Wen \\\o\c 




cjuiet tor a \\iH^k past, and tlu^ 1 h s- 




sians have rcwllv \c\\, hag and baggag(\ 




for whieh Heaxen be praised! 'V\\c\ 




are like the loensts oX l''gvjn. desv>l.iting 




the land, and eating iij^ every grcu^n 




thing. 

• 


JVednesduy. 


" T-Tl'^- ^^"ill gix e thc^ o\\ ot joN ti>r nu>iirn- 




ing. and tlu^ garnuMit ot prais(^ 

IP 



American Revolution. 



for the spirit f>f }jf:;ivlnf:ss." These com- 
forting words have hvi-u In my fhoughts 
this (lay, making me peaceful. J },ave 
h'stened to the still small voice within 
me. Oh that I could be enabled to rlo 
this oftener! How much care and tur- 
mr^Il of .spirit would it lighten! 

^J^^') news of Irnpr^rtance. A rlrpu- 
tation f;f Friends was sent last 
month to a place callerl Nine J^artners, 
about twenty miles east of the Hudson 
Kiver. Henry Pattison was one of the 
number; he gives a very interesting 
ar:f:ount of their i)rogress. They crossed 
the water to Mamaroneck, and pro- 
^-.wVA to White Plains. ^\vy had 
some questioning to undergo from the 
f-nemy, as they were obligerl to pass the 
Continental lines; anrl coming from 
r>ong Tslanrl, where the British power is 
1)1 



1780 



I hursday. 



i;v^^ 



Jmkr^\M /Ci^xv 



; suprt^nx^. they h^vl ttat^ wt btii\^ s<tv>p|H\l : 

\ srillx WUevux^^ thcm;iicK t$ u* W in tht^ 

* w^y <>l their rt%iou5^ duty> they |hi^ 

^evtrtvl. rhey ^\i^^d ueur Cuneral 

\Va^hit\gt\>n's hcavK|\uinr\^ On a|>- 

V prvKKhing. they weiv jitopjHxk exau\inevl 

i s«&verrh\ and handed over to the C\>i\\* 

' mittee i>t^ Siitety, which de\ laivd the\ 

<\>uld not allow them u> pt\H\ t d a^n- 

^sttntlv with the orvlei^ thev had n^ 

ceived. 

They then dv\<rA d uu: v^ichomi W a; ii- 
ington nxight Ih^ intv>rnu\i ot' their deten- 
tion, and requested t)\.i: ho wvndvl p\e 
then\ an interview. \-: \\.\> granted: 
the\ \\o:o i(\ni\(\l with ni.nkovl vlotv v- 
cnv\^ a:ui !vsp(\'L h is tho «.ni.^UMn vM 
this peculiar jiev^t to sp(\ik wi:i\ nuvlcM- 
tion» noNcr in stro!\c tern\s, either in 
condenuutioi\ or praiv^e, con\plin\entary 
lanpiage bein^ specially Jisapprovevl 



AtfUTUim Hrtjoli/hofi \ Vi>/. 



of V, .' \ ' ir/ \!'/i\\\f.r in fin thtjr (liydiftt 
tUnti'^)t j^uiiuifA pfiravT, ih^. iiwy w^r^ 
WiuM Mrii/;k wh\t ihf. c\t:^^tu^. awl dig- 
f/)»y of (ft,nrjn\ Wd^}tiU'pipm*» j>^rv/r/ 

A \\V*\'i frjan, and vAmi\\wXtA with gr^af 
j/r';|yn''y A-v nn/^h j;rai.V: a*, f}»' / 
could be f.%\)t'(,\iA U) \/f^',f(/w M^,()U '■'- a 

Ai*f:r polifirly rrj^ucMin^ them to l>e 
.' ■au,\, t}jr (',tntjii\ mark clo»c inquiry 

rrlatin;^ fo tjjr Hrlfl'^j for''/- on tfir 
i'.hin'l. 



Hj'; /narjfi'r l;':ing calcuJatrri tr^ jj/- 
j/jfrr rrr/fifirkncf!, thry vfrry candidly told 
;ill f}»' y kf(' 7/, afjrl a^^juaintcd hirn with 
',ojnr f;irt-, hr fr^r'! iinkhov/fi to hirn. 

^'/'rj'r.il Wa-vhington inquire H v/lj^r^: 
fli' y \r,i/,r(\ f})v nir^lit, arjd '^airj h'- 7/;i', 
'nfif ly f.(>u-/\\i<j<\, from }»j', Vu<r//\f<\'/': 



ijSo 



American Revolution, 



of their Society, iind oi the person with 
whom thev tarried, tJKit their object was, 
as the>- represented, entirely rehgious. 
He apologized tor their detention, sa)- 
inii, it seemed una\oidable, and it the\- 
returned the san\e wa}', he shcnild he 
happy to hear of their success in seeing 
their triends. 

When the humble company entered 
the General's presence, an aide ste[^[>ed 
up, and hinted to them the propriety ot" 
removing their hats. 

Henry Pattison said, *' In presence 
of God in prayer alone, do we bow the 
imcovered head. Before kings, or the 
mightiest oi earth's potentates, this re- 
spect is not shown. In His sight there 
is no respect of persons; in ours, all 
men are brethren." 

General Washington said he was well 
acquainted with their customs, and scMiie 



American Revolution. 



1 780 



of \{v. best friends were rjf t}jf:ir body. 
lie advi/rl th'in \() i/o forward], anrl 
always plairjly lell the triith. 

C)n tljeir retiirn, pa'sin^^^ again near 
the csainjj, they availed themselves of 
General Wasliington's invitation. lie 
apjj^ared flefply interested irj tlieir rela- 
tion of what tfjey had seen anrl heard, 
arid dismissed them with kind assurances 
oi regard, request irig them to represent 
to the enemy wljatever tljey chose, as 
he knew they wcjuld tell c;nly t}je trutlj, 
in which Jie was willinr/ to trust. 



piJBJJC affairs engage Ixjt little atten- 
tion liereabouts; eacli family is ab- 
sorbed in its own toils anci privations. 

J>'nedict Arnold has receivf:d, as a 
reward of treacliery, tfje aj)pointment of 
Brigadier-General in the British army, 
and, it is said, a large amount of money 



Friday. 



l7vV 



jimtiiftifi Riv^itthm. 



\K<\dc<. S'U.iU oon\|HM\sativM\ tor tho 
tlmvituro ot iuMior, priiuMplo, rr|nit.ition. 
»;// that man holds dear ! A* hold, au\- 
bitioujs bad n\an» pitiUss auvl schish. ho 
botravod his v\nintiy tVom the un\voith\ 
twotixo ot ro\cnm\ rruo. i\o S(M \ c\l 
hor noMv in tho oxpcditioii to OiuIhw 
and proNod lunisoh on other or>.MsivM\s 
a toavloss vM^uhm\ and Congress awarded 
tov^ httlo praise, anvl aetcd pcriiaps un- 
wisolv in jMoniotini;- vo\ini;or nu n he toiv^ 
him : but pcrson.al ai:^Tandi/cnuMU, and 
not patriotism. a».'tnat(\l him: whiU^ thc^ 
i love ot troovivMTi, devotion to ri^ht ai\d 
iiisti*.H\ is the prinv'iplo «,'>t a»-iion ot 
NWisliini^ton, C^Tcno, and Mont^oincMx, 
whoso nuMUorN' nian\" a tc\u" will rni- 
bahn, anvl whoso licroio bra\cM\. b(\uu\. 
^raootul attraoti\ cMu\^s. and nudanohoU 
tato, will torn\ the thonic ot praise and 
ro^rot to boin^s vet unborn. 



yjw^ruan H(nMut 



/on. 



y/^. 



u, fliat lw:aijtiful pa/^agc: "And 
nafion »}jall not lift up ///ord again.^t 
nation, rjor Irarrj v/ar atiy rriorc. 'I'hc 
j'^vvrinl J jail f>^: turned into the plon^^i- 
^fjare, anri t}ir: j^pfrar int^> tfic pruning- 
}jr;(;k." Jt af^pcars to indicate that the 
peaceful pur?iuit^ of agriculture will pre- 
vail cr/er the earth, and war and devav 
tatir;n cea,e. May C/od ha'^ten the day! 

Y' t tjjf reai.stance of t}jf: Colonies 
agalri'vt oppre.s-vion is righteous and jast 
This land is destined t^^ be the Home 
of the Free. It s/:ems as though Gfxl, 
having f^repared and rjecreed it for the 
refuge of the per^:ecuterl and tfje wretched 
of ffje f-arth, had operjeri the eye', of the 
hardy Spaniards, whos^: faith was cer- 
tainty, and who'/: ad'/^rjt (jrous spirit 
never flaggerl, reveah'ng the existence 
of ;i hro;id continent over tlie v/irle wa- 



' I ij/'.'.fi/j' 



1780 



American Revolution. 



ters, which appeared to others a wild 
chimera. And then the indomitable 
perseverance of the early settlers, which 
no difficulties could daunt, no hardship 
subdue. The piety and self-denial of 
the Puritans; the enthusiastic faith and 
devotion of the Covenanters, the Hu- 
guenots, in deep baptism of sorrow ; all 
here came, the chosen of God, to a place 
prepared for them in wisdom and mercy 
— the Canaan to the Israelites ! Over 
these broad lands and fertile fields a 
race is to spread, and become like the 
leaves of the forest, or the sands of the 
sea, for numbers. Here liberty, peace, 
and plenty shall prevail beneath the 
benignant smile of the Lord. But never 
may we or our children's children, like 
the Israelites, wax wanton, and turn 
against the God of all our mercies ! 
The declension of the Covenant peo- 



American Rrcoh/tion. 



pie is afFectingly portrayed in the eighth 
chapter of Deuteronomy, and fearful 
denunciation is pronounced against those 
in such a case. 

"For the Lord thy God bringeth 
thee into a good land, a land of brooks 
of water, of fountains, and depths that 
spring out of valleys and hills; a land 
of wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig- 
trees, and pomegranates; a land of olive 
oil, of milk and honey; a land wherein 
thou shalt eat bread without scarceness. 
Thou shalt not lack anything in it. A 
land whose stones are iron, and out of 
whose hills thou mayest dig brass. And 
thou say in thine heart, My power, and 
the might of mine hand, hath gotten 
me this wealth. But thou shalt remem- 
ber the Lord thy God, for it is He that 
giveth thee power to get wealth." 



I 7 So 


^miTHMfi R(\\iftftmK 


M-:.:\r,. 


pi INPIMI. v.ipmr, .u\A \\o\c\wc still 




i:v> on. And " the end vloth not .ip- 




pc\ir.'" \\"i:h Job I U\'\ th.it I r.m 




.ilniost s.n. " Mv soul is wc.un ot" niN 




lit(\"' This loiii; sc^p.ir.ition is h.u\l to 




bc^ horno. l.oi\l s.ni^ nu^ tioni siltish 




rc'pinini;s, cMi.iMt^ nu^ to iiMunnuH^ nn 




own \\ islu\< .uul ^Ifsiirs lor tlu' ooninion 




wc'.il ; And in tin i;ooJ tinu^ i"c\<torc' ni\ 




husb.iiul to us. .uul p^.K-o And ticc\loni to 




this t(Mnpi^st-tossc\l .uul .it]h^'tc\{ p(\>pK\ 


a fi/:cr.\J,n . 


T AST nii;ht Mr. Hiirr. a stoi(^k(H^p(M", 




w .is .isKh^p in tlu^ stoic^ \^as w .is his 




oiistoni. tor tlu^ pur['»osi' o\ L;u.u\lin^ it^. 




N\ luMi ho \\ .IS .uousc\l b\ A no\>c .it \\\c 




window, w hii'h w .is so lu.niU l\iri(\l 




th.U though tlu^\ hoi(\l tlu^ shutter, .uul 




tUi_:.L:.(\l at it .1 i;rc.i( while, thoN oouKl 




not o\\n it. "Nc\ir tlu^ to[^ ot thc^ >hut- 




icv [\\c\c is un!ortun.itely a sni.ill op( n- 



JImcrkan Rcvoiufion. 



J7^^/> 



ifjr.^ tf> arl/jiif fjjr- \\'A\\. 'J jjrou?'}) tijr, 
on'- of f}j'- vilhiirj'- put lii', ?^Mn ;irjfl fir'H, 
killiri;.^ Mr. Jiurr. 'J fir ball ja-.v:r] 
\\\\(i\\'A\ \\v. \)()<\y. :[■, \\f 7/;i.', '.itfirj;.^ up 
in h'd. Wu: wretch':', tlj'-n fi':d, ;irjd 
t})f ir vi'.tini livrrl hut a f^-v/ inrwncfit;-/, 
jn.f lorjr^ fnoij;'fi to frll tfjf: particulars. 
WJjf n will (\r.\\w(A',i\\<J: conif/'i 



^ l''\\\ \\\\\ v. a rnarj \)y th': narrj': of 
Ifnr/li .]:ir/'\../' a 'lory, from tli^: 
|>rovirJ^f: of N'-v/ J'r /-y. v/Ijo i-, 'z- 
ti'-rn'ly prr.f-Mjt in^^ arid Ijard orj th^: 
pfopl'-, f',{i'-f.i;illy flj': urjr':'.i ,?irj;^ OM;jk- 



Salurday. 



* I ; . /nan, after the war, manifested the deep- 
r^t ari'l rnou hicart-felt contrition, on account of hij 
brutal conduct Wwzrdi the Friends. He became a 
rncnibcr of their Society ; visited them, and wi«hed 
to make any reparation in hi« power for the injuriei 
inflicted ; ari'l ';v';n (A\'':r'-A \ih \,'Ay »o ilie jmitcr, 
humblirijL; \i\u\-.'-M, and mourning hi* iniquities. 



1780 



Amcrii\ in Revolution. 



crs. It scciiis as thougli when once 11 
man sides with the enemy, he goes 
to greater lengths to show his zeal ; or 
by bullying and threatening the un- 
offending, to 'hide his own shame. 

He will not listen to expostulation or 
reason, and seems to be devoid of mercy. 
He will often take the last morsel ot" 
hay or provender out of a barn, when 
the owner pleads for only a little, for his 
famishing cattle, for the night. 

He yesterday ordered John Perkins 
to go out with his boys, and take their 
scythes and cut the grass otf some mea- 
ciow-land of their own, which they 
counted on as winter feed for their crea- 
tures; by threatening and tearlul oaths 
he compelled compliance. But it was 
a hard day's work. 



152 



Aincrki in Revolution. 



1780 



A DREADFUL deed was connnittcd 
last night. Four persons came over 
from the mainhmd and attacked the 
house of Richard Albertson. Tliey sur- 
rounded it, and one of them knocked 
loudly at the door. Knowing it to be 
useless to resist, he got up and opened 
it; they entered, and with violent ges- 
tures told him to hand them all his 
money. He is considered a wealthy 
farmer, and they doubtless knew it. He 
said he had very little in the house, and 
they would be welcome if they would 
be satisfied. They thereupon swore 
furiously, saying they did not believe 
it, and commenced searching, rummag- 
ing drawers, opening closets, and even 
lifting up the hearthstones, which they 
have discovered is a favorite hiding- 
place. They found nothing of value. 
Incensed highly, they commenced swear- 



Monday. 



17N 



Amcrt(\ ui RfTcolution, 



\\v^ and rhrcattMUHi;- the wcMiicn, who 
were c\eessi\cl\ tcMrifieJ: theN cM\lerc\l 
them to uneoi\i the hedste.ul, {\\c\ thcMU- 
seKes puUini;' i)tt"the bed-elothes. Aliaid 
to disobev, their trenibHiiL!.- tinkers re- 
fused the task. (^Mr. Albertson had 
been put out ot the room, so as to pla\- 
upon the tears ot the temales.^ The 
rutlians said thev wanted the ro[H^ to 
han^- hin\ with. 'ld\e\' eould extort no 
more bN' threateniuL!,-. 

'Thev now dra^'^ed in the master ot 
the house, and proeeeded to [nit the 
rope around his neek and tie his hands 
behind him. 

Then the wite and ehikhen lell u[hmi 
their knees, and be^^ed the rutilans to 
spare their lather. 

Mr. Albertson eahnly tokl them that 
it was useless to kill him: //.//would 
not briuii' monew The w ite then ottered 



Jmerican Revolution. 



80 



tlif: wrrtrfjf. all }jf:r .'-,ilvf;r .spor^ri., arid 
Iwrnty (lf>llars in inr^nry bf:.siflr:s, wliicfi 
tfi^-y riidfly f:lutr;}if:rl, hut iV.wv.iWiVA 
n](>r'-, as violrntly as bf:f(;rf:. 'J }jf:y 
now began to abu-/: }jis (jnly son, Wil- 
liam, a fjoy of about fourtficn yf:ar.S, 
thinking, doiibtlcss, tfiat by fixciting \\\('. 
ff:ars and sympathy of tlj^: fatfjrr, tiic 
bfjf>ty would bf: [>roduf;':d. 

'Jhe \)i)i)\ man, scjrfdy tri^d, tcJd \\\i: 
rufJJaris tfiat monf:y was notinng tc; liim 
in f;om}jarisori ; if lif: liad it, fjf; wc)iild 
give it. thf:m. Wliat; litth: lie did 
possess was let out tcj fjis neigfibors. 
W}iereu|)f>n tliey began to strike at him 
witlj tlieir sabres, knoeking liim down, 
anrl tfjeri stancling him up, and cutting 
him (hearlfully, \\i: beggirjg for life; fiis 
wife, liaving fainte-d away, was lying on 
the floc;r. 

'I'lji,-. went on uritil day began to 



I I -So 



-////^vvr. /// Rr<\*If/titifK 



J..i\\ n, wlicMi ':ho\ \c\[, c\\\'>\\\tx ^uul thrcMt- 
cniiiL; to Inirn his house- o\cr his \\caA. 
'Vi\c ».'oi\l w .IS unloosciu\i tioiu the" nc\-k 
ot Mr. AlbcM:son. aiul the- iU\^p L;.ishc-s 
t.hcsst\l. \\c xcccwcd sc-\cM"c- iniiuN, 
and will hc.\[ tho Simis thcic-ot thioui^h 
hto, tvT I am thanktul tv> saN his lite- is 
not elcspairc-d ot. Ciioat uuli^nation 
prevails, anJ a plan has lv-(-n elc-\ isc\l 
b\ the people- {O pi\ne-e-t the-nise-l\ e-S tleMn 

siieh t;re-at c\il in tiituie. A e'eMnpans 
oi \e>uni;' nu-n is to he^ assi\-iate-^l, [o 
riele- about e-»n lu->rse-l\K-k all ni^ht: twelxe- 
i;\-» e->ut at e>nee-, and a:o ie-he-\e-el at a 
ee-rtain lunu- b\ en!u-rs. 'V\w\ are- well 
arnu-d, anJ will i;i\e the alarm wlu-ie- 
theN" eliseener si^ns e>t an intended at- 
taek. Kiehard rheMn[\son is their leaeler, 
a Ih>K1, intie[-»id man. 



/]/)i.i 7 icn n Hi 'I ,oli/h.on . 



1 780 



'"T^HIS frxt fl'vVfll:, on my i/iiiirj rfj-fl;iy; 'iw.day. 

''• 'J |jf: Lord i. kin;/, br tfjr p'ojjf: 
nrvrr :/> iinpatirnt. I fr; Jftrif li hf;fwrf:n 
f}i'- r}jf:rul->ini, b': fhr r;irflj rjf;vf:r '•/> un- 
^juiff." If \\:i'. r.{)]\\{()\\c(\ Hj^: rrjufjj — 
tfir faifjj f}jat (;r>fl )-, f;vfr all, l;lf:'/,f:fl for 



(:vf:r : 



''PHl'Jvl'. wa-. arjofljr:r rol)ljf:ry pfirpf.-- ; Ikur.dfi.^ 

tratcfl alK>iit twf:rjry niiif. i]()\u this 
pla^.f, unrlf-r moM :an;/iilar rarrijiri:, lances, 
la-f vv^fk. Tfjfrr were thr^r: inrn, and 
thf-y '.i\)\)r-d\(;(\ to |)f: f-nfinly .Mj|>f:rif;r to 
tljf: liunn^r,, or Co-A'-hoy., wljr^ infe-j tfjr: 
(:(;ijrjf ry, In ',tafif>»rj, fljou;_4i nr^r in hii- 
jnanify. 'J'fjry all worf: hlark ina^ks, 
and Wf-rf: arinf:d wifli ciif lassf:-,, a', wfll 
as .silvf:r-nK>ijntfd \)'v.\()V,. \\ wa'. \\u: \ 
hou'f: iA Jo/}>h Willctr,, an 'd'^rd irjan. f 
'V\\(:Y vrry politely U)\(\ liini ]\(,\ to I;': 
at all alannrd, as thry (Hily vvarjfrfl \i'i. 



1780 



A me r lean Revolution. 



money, and would not injure him, or 
any of his family. The old man com- 
plied with their request, but could not 
satisfy their rapacity. He offered them 
now, though most reluctantly, his old 
silver timepiece (a heavy old-fashioned 
watch, which he had worn at his side 
fifty years), and it seemed like parting 
with a friend. 

The creatures now threw off the mask 
of politeness, though not those they co- 
vered their faces with, and uttered the 
most fearful oaths, and threats of death 
and cruelty. It is generally believed 
they were British soldiers. One of them, 
horrible to relate, let fall his cutlass on 
the head of the aged man, aiming doubt- 
less to kill him; but as he stooped to 
avoid the blow, it struck his cheek, 

He fell; 
im. 



making a dreadful wound. 



his daughter ran to h 



md leaning 



American Revolution. 



1780 



over her venerable parent in agony of 
spirit, cried, "Oh God, they have killed 
him!" 

The villains then began to cut up the 
chairs, to destroy the furniture, and break 
the looking-glass. After which they re- 
lieved the wounded man and his out- 
raged family of their presence. 

The whole country round is roused, 
and determined to ferret out the of- 
fenders. 

The end is with Him "who neither 
slumbers, nor sleeps," in whom is "nei- 
ther variableness, nor shadow of turning." 



tj^AITH in an overruling Providence 
was nobly exemplified in a case 
which occurred in one of the Jerseys. 
A Friend was pinioned in his own barn. 
He stood with his back to the large door, 
with a drawn sword close to his breast. 



Saturday. 



1780 



Aincrh \ i n Re \ 'oJution. 



wliich an cnia^i;cd Britisher, with threat 
of instant death, in ease ot ilenial o\ re- 
fusal of eoniphanee with some outra- 
geous cleniand, held in his Iiand. Cahn 
and still, the aged Friend stood. It 
seemed to exasperate his persecutor be- 
yond all bounds. With a horrible objur- 
gation he flourished his sabre, and bring- 
\\\^ it down within a hair's breadth ot 
the noble n^uf s throat, paused : fiery 
wrath gleamed in his eye. It was a 
moment of terror to the bystanders; 
they besought the Friend to give in. 

The stillness was profound. The 
aaed man looked in his enemy's eye, 
and spoke : " Thou canst do no more 
than thou art permitted to do." The 
voice struck solemnly on the ear. 

For an instant more the sword was 
uplifted ; then it fell as though the arm 
had been palsied. The violent man was 



American Revolution, 



1780 



cowed, awe-struck. He strode out of 
the barn, mounted his horse, and rode 
away furiously. 



T^HERE is a rumor of a great battle 
fought at the South, and the Con- 
tinentals victorious. I cannot vouch for 
the truth of it. My first thought and 
prayer is my husband's safety; the next 
for our country. 

By skilful mihtary manoeuvres, Gene- 
ral Washington lias kept Sir Henry 
Clinton in a state of continual alarm and 
uncertainty for some time. It was gene- 
rally understood that New York was tlie 
point (;f attack. But the General sud- 
denly broke up die camp at White 
Plains, and crossed the Hudson river. 



Thursday. 



re- 



J^EPORT of the dreadful deed I 
c ordcd (of the masked men) was 



Friday. 



i78o 



Amcrkcin Rrcoluthn. 



made to the captain of a company quar- 
tered at Jericho. By inquiry, three 
men were found to have been absent 
on the night of the attack. The officer 
professed himself desirous ot having 
them severely punished, if they could 
be identified. Whereupon the wounded 
man, Mr. Willetts, being yet too ill, 
his sister, an aged spinster, with others 
of the household, went to head-quarters. 
The men were assembled, and she recog- 
nised two, by their voices, and their^ 
size, and general appearance, as the of- 
fenders. They were made to confess and 
designate the third, who had deserted. 

Though he whom they sorely injured, 
humanely, and in a forgiving spirit, 
pleaded for them, and begged that they 
might not be severely dealt with, they 
were punished severely, by what they 
call picketing. 



Amcru\ in Rccolut/oii. 



^HE house of Fry Willis, ofJcriclio, 
was entered by way of the kitehen, 
where a young nian and woman were 
sitting over tlie fire. The robbers lired 
off a gun to obtain a light. They then 
set a guard over eacli bed, and searched 
for money and valuables. The man- 
servant, "a warrior," attempted to run 
f )r his sword, but was held back. They 
ransacked cabinets, desks, etc., and took 
money to a considerable amount, the 
lerving-man's excepted, which was con- 
cealed under a drawer. 

The venerable and respected Thomas 
Willis, then a boy sleeping in liis trun- 
dle-bed, narrates these incidents of the 
war of the Revolution, elucidating, in 
the trials and afflictions of his people 
(the Friends), and their patient submis- 
sion, that divine charity which suffereth 



long and is kind. 



ir,3 



780 



i78o 



American Revolution. 



John Searing had been observed by 
the enemy carting pork ; counting upon 
his having received the money for it, 
the creatures went to his house and de- 
manded it. On refusing it, his hfe was 
threatened. He persisted, was seized 
and his head placed upon a block, and 
a man stood over him with an axe, 
bringing it down every moment as it 
to sever his head from his body. His 
wife then placed all the money they 
had, about forty pounds, at their feet, 
and rushed to save her husband by 
placing her arm across his neck. 

The sight of the money caused them 
to desist their threatenings. 

The same person, Mr. John Searing, 
was equally fearless when commanded 
by an officer to go with his team to the 
harbor to cart liquor. He was in his 
own wagon on the road and driving. 



American Rrcolution, 



1780 



He refused the request. A sword 
was brandished over his head, with a 
threat of instant death. 

There was a pause, and a solemn 
upHfting of the heart to God on his 
part. 

The trustful man then said, " If thou 
seest anything in me worthy of death, 
why then take my life." 

John Searing did not feel free, con- 
science free, to perform such a behest. 

Such perfect trust in Divine protec- 
tion disarmed the atrocious wretch. His 
arm fell powerless. He took the good 
man prisoner and carried him to the colo- 
nel, who respected his religious scruples. 
His walk home over the fields alone 
was full of the joy and peace of a faith- 
ful believer. He used through his after- 
life to recur to it as the most delightful 
walk he ever took. 

165 



lySo 



American Rrcoli/tion. 



The robbers, on entering the house of 
John WiUis, were so exasperated at 
finding no booty, that they tied the 
hands of all the family behind them, as 
well as those of the eminent preacher, 
Joseph Delaplaine, who was their guest 
at the time. 

They dragged the wife of Mr. Willis 
by the hair about the house, and then 
left them, telling them that they had set 
fire to the house, which was true, as 
they saw the flames kindling and curl- 
ing up the wooden jamb beside the fire- 
place. Their hands all. tied ! 

A young woman named Phebe Powell, 
by dint of the most powerful efforts, at 
length loosened one of her hands and 
ran to extinguish the flames, which she 
succeeded in doing before leleasing the 
rest from their thongs ! 



Ajnerkan Revolution. 



pjEART-SICK, and weary of record- 
ing these deeds of horror, and long- 
ing to divert the thoughts and allay the 
feelings of indignation and unquiet, to 
which they give rise and continually 
keep in exercise, I determined to de- 
vote this morning to the perusal of Ma- 
jor Musgrave's writing, which, though 
It fills my soul with sadness, exasperated 
and harassed as it is in my present state, 
must still be a relief, though a momen- 
tary one. 

I insert it in my diary for your peru- 
sal, trusting that you will participate, 
my dear husband, in the interest I felt 
for my lost friend, and will feel with me 
a lively concern in what so nearly relates 
to him. 

THE MANUSCRIPT OF MAJOR MUSGRAVE. 

"Inclination and gratitude, my dear 



1780 



Saturday. 



1780 



American Revolution. 



madam, prompt me to relate to you 
some of the secrets of my life, feeling 
assured, from the interest you have tes- 
tified in me, that it will not be deemed 
burdensome or intrusive. 

" My youth was passed in the vicinity 
of the pretty town of Tiverton, in De- 
vonshire, surrounded by most sweet and 
pleasant influences. 

" The window of the little dormitory 
from which my eye used to wander on 
av\*ikening from my morning slumbers, 
took in a wide and beautiful range ; 
distant hills, verdant soft meadows, 
browsing sheep, and lowing herds. 
The little river Ex, like a thread of sil- 
ver, ran through and around them all, 
to join the Lowman, and even passed 
through the main street of the village. 
In midsummer we could jump over it; 
but in the spring time, w^hen it was 



American Revolution, 



1780 



swollen by the raiPxS, we had to go 
around and cross it by the bridge. 

" Our noble mansion stood on an 
eminence, commanding a fine view^ of 
the surrounding park, and the upland 
and meadows beyond. 

" The inmates consisted of my wi- 
dowed mother, one brother, myself, and 
an orphan cousin. 

"Howard and I were very unlike; 
he a boy of noble impulses, but vola- 
tile, unsteady, impulsive. Of a contem- 
plative turn myself, I was studious, and 
though deep, strong, and ardent in feel- 
ing, yet of a calm, quiet demeanor. 
While Howard made himself heard 
wherever he was, engaging in field 
sports, violent exercises, running, wrest- 
ling, and leaping, I stayed at home in 
the large library chair, buried in some ex- 
citing wild romance, legend, or tradition. 
8 \m 



1 -^.- 



./w,rA\ff; R^:\'C:::!i^*f. 



** In mv oarliosr \ cmvs nu im.i^in.i- 
tion vo\cl!c\l in t.ilos ot" (MU'h.intnuM\t 

i and fairy-luul : whrn olvlci. it woiuU^kvI. 

[ delii;'i\rc\l. m\A u\\ on i\\v loir ot v^lu- 
valrv : bviilt tcnul.il r.istlos in tho air .u\A 
stonnoJ t!\o!n: lM::l(\i .low ii port»-nillis, 
orossc\l the nu\u, srooJ tivst in tho ooiut, 
a bold knii;h: .nul niK\ (Mums(\1 in .ir- 
nior. I'l^htini;- his n\.i\ thion:;h i1i\k11\ 
tors, arnu\l to ihc iccih, cai\c'^' ^^ pKu\t 
the standarvl ot his rhic t on thc^ rasth^ 
sumniir. or tv> ic^souc^ tiom iV^^piwssion .uul 
contincnuMU thc^ taiii^ l.uKt^ v^t his lo\ r. 

**'rhis \uc\ to an ah(\Kl\ h(Mt(\l ima- 
gination, poisonous toovl to a wuwA >o 
oonstitut(\l i^a tcMnptManuait hi:;hl\ (^\- 
cMtaMrX was iK\ul(Miini;- to all tlu^ yww- 
Uca\ \1Sc\s ot lltt\ 

**M\' vli\u" niotlua' A\A not inulcMtakc* 
to diiwt our pursuits or watrh <nw \\\v\\- 

I tal habits: so that w c^ w tac^ i>ut o\ harm. 



/I II in /( ,111 l\,i o/ II //oil. 

our w;iy ifj j>r;K;e. 

" Sf> f ^^rrvv up ;i vi',irn);iry ; ;wrn,f fo 

'•'• Ifov/.-nrl \vA<\ ;, rr^vin;^ ^li'.prrjf ion, 

'>"ly k/.rv/, or i:u<<\ fo knov/, f Ijrou^.^lj 
'^"'^'^- •• "'■ '/i''/"! tjir i>oy;il \avy, 
'''•" 1". w;]/,rlrMf,;^ pr opr ,r,if ir-, ,ni//f,f 

/ /'■ w;j', f w'r> yc'if, my ',rnir>j. 

"Afirr Wli;if h.r, hr^ ,;nr|., yo.j v/)l| 
"•.'i^l'ly \>'\\r-jr ,1,;,, ,f j.,.,,. ,|,,^,j^| ^.^j^^. 
f'^ ' '"" '^^ n:y ljr;irf, if vv'r^uM pjovr 
•■'" <'il>.ofhi/);^, f oriMjuiinr^ |>;i..ion. So 
li;ifli If provrrl. 

wrjif fo ',rlior>l ;if ;, rj,, ,;,„.,; f,oi„ Uninr. 
Wlirn ,lir- w;r, /^on^ J /,r,f knrvv fl,;,f / 
lovr.l hrr, ;inr| lovfd lirr nr>f as a slsfrr 



17^^ 



I •:'Sc^ 



jimtiTiatn Rav^utm. 



A> I :lunii;lu 1 did. I inis>c\l hor cnoin 
moment, and loni^rd tor tier return. \:\ 
one ye;ir she eame : not onlv In ''[v eyes, 
\vhieh were those ot u lo\er, but in the 
eves ot eNer\bovi\, transeendenrlv heau- 
titul, loveiv, :\nd ep.giiging' hevonvl de- 
scription. 

"1 might dwell in nijnure on those 
graees, and l:.Io\\ in^U [^aint troni tlu^ 
heart on whieh tht^v are indeliMv c^n- 
i^raxen, the impression ot tlu-ir inetVah'e 
loxeliness; but it is breakiui;- at tht^ 

I thought that it is not tor :\- that she is 
so tair: that all her wealth ot eharnis 

1 whieh 1 ^a.'ed and doari\l on, dreamed 
about, eounted nu own, and idori/c\l as 
a miser does his t^old, was snateht\l trom 
nn gra^i'' : and that tlu^ truit so tair to 
the e\ e, pro\ ed ean I sa\ it V but 
ashes, and bitterness within. 

"Hut 1 eould ne\cM' impute a tauh to 



yiiiicrUan lievolutf.on. 



Grdi'ji^ then, and it alniost kills me to 
write it now I 

"I told my love to her; she listened 
with maidenly grace, seemed moved, 
excited, and said it was returned. In 
short, Grace accepted my suit I was 
hapj)y^-r>h, how haj)py ! — in the convic- 
tion I 

" We rode through groves and sha- 
dowy lanes; by moonlight paced the 
terrace, breathing vows of love ; strolled 
by the rivulet, and sat down by its side, 
mingling our voices with its ripple, sing- 
ing, musing, whispering ever of one and 
thtt same theme — love I With Grace 
it was a sentiment, with me a passion; 
v/ith her a pastime, with me the destiny of 
my life ; with her evanescent, changeful 
as tin: April clouds, with me enrooted 
and entwined among the very heart- 
strings I 



ijSo 



Amcrk\ in RccoJuthm, 



""^^ow, when I retrace these seenes, 
it seenieth strange, aiui 1 wcmder that 1 
clothed her mind in so nianv sweet pc r- 
fections. But then I know that 1 nuulc^ 
her the enihc>dinient ot the lair \ ision ot 
a tervid imagination: the ideal ehariner, 
complete in ever\' teminine i;raee : in- 
vestiniT her w ith all that tanev itieturc\l 
t'air, and wise, and ^i;ood in woman ! 
Methinks I hear ^■oll sii;h. Sc) Ao /, 
now the dream is over. Had any o\\<: 
then whis[UMed the shadow ot a suspi- 
cion of the constancy ot \\\\ Ctrae(\ 1 
should liave re^^arded it as the \ain bab- 
bling ot'a tool. 

"The house was thrown into un- 
wonted confusion by the nc^ws that 
Howard was returned trom the Medi- 
terranean, in the shi[) ot war N'ulean ; 
and when he came dashing in one da\' In 
the Royal Navy unitorm, his brown (nu'ls 



Aincrlcan RccoLuLlon. 



falling about }iis handsome ennbrowned 
face, as he removed his ca[), kissed Grace, 
and the blcjod mantled her face, I felt 
a slight twinge; but it quickly passed, 
for I was secure of my possession — her 
undivided heart. 

'' I said nothing of our engagement 
to Howard, nor did Grace, thinking it 
prudent not to publish it until my path 
and business in life was marked out. 

''Howard remained on shore six 
wx^eks, and we crowded into this short 
s[)ace of time much enjoyment. We 
one day took a more than ordinary dis- 
tant ride on horseback; Grace dearly 
loved the exercise, and Howard was an 
accomplished horseman. I endured it 
for licr sakC; for otherwise I had no plea- 
sure in it. 

" The day was fine, and we rode far 
among the Devonshire hills. Howard 



1780 



^/> 



'nicricjii Rc'cohition. 



led the way up their steep sides, often 
where neither road nor path could be 
traced, chatting and laughing merrily 
all the time, for his spirits were inex- 
haustible. 

" The sun was near setting when 
Grace switched up her little grey pal- 
frey and left us behind ; in a moment 
she was out of sight, and in another we 
heard a scream. Howard put the spurs 
into his horse and dashed on. For one 
instant I w^as stunned in alarm, but I 
followed with the swiftness of liglit. 
He was in time to save her I 

" She had mounted to the summit of 
the hill so rapidly, that she found it im- 
possible to arrest her progress on the 
brink of the precipice or decli\ ity on the 
other side, and it could not be seen un- 
til it was too late to avert the danger. 

" The horse fell and rolled over and 

17.; 



Aiiicrkan Rcvohition. 



1780 



over, Grace still fast, unable to extricate 
herself. At this point Howard reached 
the spot, leaped from his horse, ran 
down the steep place, caught the pal- 
frey by the rein, and when I came up, 
was holding Grace in his arms, insensi- 
ble and pale as marble. 

" I thanked Heaven in a mental eja- 
culation for her preservation ; but wished 
— how deeply I — that / might have been 
her deliverer. When Grace at length 
opened her eyes, and lifted them till 
they rested on Howard's face ; when she 
murmured his name, looked her thanks, 
and seemed so content in her position, 
I felt another twinge, and wished him 
on the blue Mediterranean, if not at the 
bottom of it. 

" For a few days after this accident 
I felt a little nervous, and the usual 
finale of such a catastrophe — the lave of 



17S0 



AmcriCi 1 n RccoJution. 



the JdJy —\\\\\\\\qA my thouglits conti- 
niKilly. 

*' But I saw nothing to excite the 
least suspicion. Grace was as conhchng 
and loving as before, and I never loved 
her half so well. 

" In a few days after I went to Lon- 
don tor a week {io\ which I have ac- 
cused, nay, hated myself since). My 
mother wished \\\c to go on some busi- 
ness transaction tor the family. 

*' I cannot say that the thought of 
Grace and Howard's being constantly 
thrown together did not cross my mind 
rather unpleasantly; but it was dismissed, 
I remember, as an unworthy one, and 
implicit faith in the truth and fidelity of 
my love was triumphant. 

'^ The day after my return Howard 
sailed for the West Indies. 

" I thou<jht Grace was distracted and 



Ajnerlcan Revolution. 



sad; rather more so than parting with 
one for whom she had only a cousinly 
attachment miglit warrant. But in a 
little while she cheered up, and appeared 
almost unchanged. 

"Grace and I were inseparable, and 
she acted well her part. Oh, hateful 
dissimulation I 

" I was sleeping on the brink of ruin ; 
basking in the sunlight on the bosom of 
the earth which was to engulf me ; lis- 
tening only to the voice of the charmer, 
but deaf to the tone of warning I 

'' Yet the beautiful mask must fall, 
soon or late ; I must be awakened from 
the fascinating dream. 

''llie truth one day was revealed. 
Letters came from Howard; one for 
my mother, and one for me, and an- 
other for Grace. 

'•'• Ours were read aloud, and handed 



lySo 


yhik 7 V'c \ 111 l\( \ 'oluh'OU. 




al)()ii( ; .she wcnl :i\\;i\ lo open licis. I 




i;illi((l \\v\ oil Iici' iclum to llic ili;i\\in<:- 




it)()iii :il)i)n( k(< j)iii|j; her IclU r so secret. 




and said it was hut a laii' rctuin ol laxor 




to shaic it with us. 




'^ In lookni!_;at hci", I thou<.;ht she had 




hccu W((j>in^; thcic wcic cNidcnt liaccs 




of tcais on her l;ic(\ 




''(»iace saw my suipiisc, and said 




sonicthin'j; soothin-j; and evasive. M) 




excited susjiicions were a^ain hilled. 




Oh, lond, inlatuated tool ! 




'' I would lam linger, and shiink irom 




the dicadlul hnal hour. My deaf, dear 




hiend, ! know )()ur warm heait teels 




ior me, and its symj)ath)' is <;!atehil. 




allhou<^h ii iails to assuage m\' sorrow. 




'' 'rii()UL;h (»race mainlameil the ;.anie 




demeanor towards me, I l)e<;an to /c.7 a 




clianj;-e. Still the reality nexcr dawiK d 




on my mind. Could 1 distrust a hein;^- 



wliom I loved as my own soul V I.ovcd 
idolal roiisly, .'111(1 dwiclorc .sinfully, you 
will say, and as I loo hav<- since learned 
to see it. I)Ut it was as uiuont rollabk: 
as. |)fir<nsy ; as vain then the altempt to 
nioderale or temper it, a:, to allay the 
slorm-vvind with a hrcath, or to lull the 
tempe.'t uous ^,ea. 

'' I said that I /<//a ( han^^fs She had 
a sort of j)atient, <iiduiin[.'; manner when 
with me; a want of re;.j)()nsive warmth 
of feelin<j;; lan^^uor, if not indiHei<-n(c, 
was plainly discernihie. 'lO sum all, \ 
experienced no more that indc ci ihaMc 
hiissfulness, that repo.e, that )oy, that 
peile( t happiness in her presence, which 
re( iprocal love once ^ave. The casket 
was there, hut the precious, priceless 
^em was lost ! 

*' I low \()^)IJ^ this state of d((ej)ti()n 
on one part, and delusion on the otfier, 



1 7 No 



American RcvoluthtL 



inicht \\A\c l.ist(\L I know iu>t. 1 w .is 
ai:;iiii cm1U\1 to Lon^loii. Mx^nisr nu\ 
tlc\ir ni.ulani, troin ^Iwc llin^ o\\ distastc^- 
tul, j\iinlul ilci.iils: n on will p.u\lon \\\c 
it I hasten nn ic^lalion (owaiils its pain- 
tul oloso, and will Inlu^xc that cniin 
incidcMit c\Minc\'((\l wiili this louiiuN is 
hatotul to nu\ though stanij>(\l as with 
rc\l-hot iron w^ow \\\\ sc^aic^l hiain. 
This is strong lanL;iiaL;(' : >ou will saN 
it is tlu^ languam^ ol passion. rru(\ ni\ 
tlcairst \\u\\ : hut r./// 1 spc^ik i-alinK, 
thi)iii;h on [\\c \x\\ o\ ilcath, ot tlu> n^- 
hnc\l (.Miu'hN ot sullriiiiL;", tlu^ luait- 
broakin^- niisiay \\hioh 1 at that tiinr 
cnilurcil V 

'' Ot the" hittcnu^ss ot such a rctro- 
sprction, tlu> cxipiisitc pain ot sui'h a 
nuMUOiN' {^{\\c line cdi;!^ oi w huh is ncN (M" 
blunt(d\ \\\:\\ luilluT \ou nor M>urs 
c\ta' ha\c' tlu" taintcst coiKH'j)tion. 



./Inn ■/ /cc III. /\( ■voliilioiu 



1780 



"J rccrivcd two letters wliile in Lon- 
don ; one for myself, the other to he 
mailed hy me to Howard. Of the cor- 
respondence I was aware, and thon(j;ht 
it hut natural and cousinly in (irace, 
unsuspicious that I was I 

" With a lover's impatience I opened 
my own, as I thou|^ht. 'Ihese are the 
words which ^reeled my eyes: 'Oh, 
dearest Howard, can I lon^^^er hear this 
cruel separation?' I was startled, hut 
I instantly thou^dit, 'Tfie mistake is 
only in the name. It was rjuife a natu- 
ral o|ie in writin;^ two letters.' f read 
on : ' It is hard to scciii to love another, 
when my heart is wholly yoius.' The 
knife was driven into mine, hut not yet 
to the core. I thou^dit myself justified 
in reading on, or rather now think so; 
llicii I should have lau^j;he(l at the (jues- 
tion. Not open my eyes when led 



ijSo 



Amcrici in RccoJut/on. 



blindfolded to the brink? Shut them 
to the perfidy which betrays, destroys 
nie ? 

"A dimness came over my sight, a 
sense of faintness, and yet I read on : 
' Charles is as listless and spiritless as 
ever. I do wish he possessed a spark 
of the fire of your ambition, a particle 
of force of character; he would be at 
all events the more agreeable as a com- 
panion; as to love^ that is in vain for 
him to win, or keep, with his brilliant 
brother for a competitor.' Dizziness 
overpowering compelled me to pause 
ere I broke the seal of the other letter, 
for the truth now flashed upon me : 
' These cruel words were intended for 
Howard^ and the letter was directed 
wrongly to jnd' 

" At length I opened the true one, or 
rather the false one — false indeed ! 



Aincrkcm Revolution. 



1780 



" There were indeed no protestations 
of love, but it. was taken for granted 
through the whole ; and a longing 
anxiety was expressed for iny return, 
and many kind things said. 

'' In an agony of disappointment I 
tore the paper into shreds, and stamped 
it beneath my heel, and wept — wept 
such tears as manhood sheds — tears 
wrung from the soul I But in an in- 
stant I resealed the precious document 
to Howard, rang, and instantly dis- 
patched it. 

" I was not ill, no fever seized me ; 
outwardly I was calm. But the sick- 
ness of despair, of grief, of deception, of 
woimded feeling and betrayed affection, 
prostrated body and spirit. They have 
been doing their work on this weary 
frame from that moment, bringing me 
to what you have seen. God knows I 



1780 



Amcrki 111 Rrcoh/tion. 



have striven against it. A strong delu- 
sion, you will perhaps think. Yes, it 
was. I can, and coi/ld reason well ; ques- 
tion myself as to its sin, and smile at 
the folly of regretting one so unworthy. 
But the spectre of my lost love haunted 
me with its sweetness, its charm. It 
stood before me when I attempted to 
mingle with my fellows, when I lay 
upon my sleepless pillow, when I knelt 
in prayer, sat at my untasted meals, or 
entered the house of God. The sense 
of misery, of desertion, viper-like, preyed 
upon my lacerated heart I 

"To go home, it was impossible. 
For ?jic there was no home. Affection 
maketh a home. And yet I felt that 
there was one being to whom I must 
pour out my sorrow, on whose loving 
breast it would soodie me to rest my 
aching head — my Mother! 



Aincrkan Rcvolul/Dn . 



1780 



'' I wrote to her, entreated her to conic 
to London (Quickly; to come alone, on 
business, or any other plea. 

'' She came, and was shocked at my 
appearance beyond measure. I told her 
all. She wept with me. The only 
balm that had been poured into the 
wound — her sympathy — was sweet, but 
it could not cure me. Astonished and 
aggrieved, she wished to intercede. 
The idea was intolerable to me. I 
shrank from it with inconceivable dis- 
like, and exacted a promise from her of 
entire silence. 

" London would not hold me now, 
nor England. I must go somewhere. 
My mother suggested the Continent. 
New scenes and travel, she felt sure, 
would in time restore me to my wonted 
cheerfulness. Oh, little my mother knew 
of the spirit-wound I had received! 



1 7 So 


jlmrintn Rcw/t/riofK 




•* I he ic\k>U ot [\\c Ahum'umu (.'clo- 




nics IkkI broken out. h was the [\c\d 




tor nu\ I knew that I must ha\e av-- 




tion: it was the onl\ esea[H^ tVoin the- 




thou^^hts whieh assallc\l nu\ [\\c phan- 




tom en' the past whieh pursued an. I 




tormep.ted w ithout eeasm^'. 




*• It was a Jreadtul S(^paia:ion to m\ 




niothiM". It a mother c^\er tecds an in- 




tenser lo\e tor one ehikl than tor an- 




other, mine did tor me; a son attt^r hc-r 




own hieart, dependent on ht-r lv>r sympa- 




th\', e\en whcMi a ehlKl, and as a man. 




trustt'ul, eonlidtni;-, and atleeticMiati\ He- 




sides, w Lis 1 not now the" ol>]eet ot hc"r 




dec^p eonuniseration "^ VUc teiulcrest 




emoticMis ol' the heart tUn\c\l cnit to me 




in near and embraein^ sympathy. 




"1 eannot reeur to l\\c parting; seeiu\ 




IIa\ini;' i>hniinc\l a eommission ot rank 




in the arna), 1 canharki^l tor the C\>lo- 




i<-^ 



Jlmerkan Rcvolulion, 



1780 



nics. \\i\i J }j;ivr: Ik fn strug^^ljnr.^ wiUi 

fatf: tljrf': lorl^^ y.iw. You, my rl^ar 
Mr:;. C , lj;ivfr sc^n t}jr: f-rtd. Your 

tcar^fiill. Yoii Wff}> t}ja! owe. -j) yf>ijrjr^ 
•JiouM hf; tfjr: victim of ijrjr':'.t rairjf:fl 
j>a:>'.i<;n. Jt ?; f/;rrov/fijl /A//; trj rlir. 
Hut: J>af}j, J hail tlj^r a'> a mrrciful 
inrr:srr)r/^T I J krjr>w tfjat J ain in t}jf: 
ljafj(l'> of Orjr who knov/^th and pitif:t}j 
i/iy ifjfirijiit If',. Iff: will havf: m^rf.y 
on m^. All my parjgs, my ^.trurrglcs, 
arc not hifl from iiim. if': ljf:ar':t}j tli^: 
wo'icc. oi my jjray';r. Ij\c::/:([ Ik: iji'. Ijr^ly 
nanif; ! 

'•'• P.S. f }j'-arfl two yr:ars sino^: of 
i|jf marriar/f of Howarfj. J carj, and 
do for|,dvf: ilj'ni. . . . J''larf: th^: minia- 
tiirr on my hf-art. Sf-nd thf: othrr krcjj- 
:,akf', to my \>r( < \<)\r-, mot}if:r. My }jf:art 
af Ih', for h'T in antif.ijjat if>n of th^: an- 
^niijj :jjf: will havf: on my acrr^unt ! 



; ^So 


^^/m.Tik\£^ Ri\ 


_. ._ . 


G.\\ b\c<> her! Atul wnu my dear 




h\d\\ your honored tuhcr. and little 




one^ You have all i^olaccvl at\vi .\> n- 




forted me.'^' 




NVilt not tears indeed tlou .ir :\\v \'c- 




T\\$a\ oi this aReorit^i: recital i \ vc:\'-c{. 




dear FAlwarJ. :ha: \vni iirvcr knc^w Ma- 




jor ISlusgravo ; I aiu sinv tha: Nvnir viis- 




criminating iiKli;iucnr woulvl ha\c K\l 




\ «.ni Cv'' ai^[^rv\M itc^ him. 




W'c^ s:ill tc-c'l his loss vlcc^pl\ . l\v> 




Cnavlcs, :hoiii;!\ noum;; and \oLuiK\ \\ .is 




.Viddencd many Jia\s atrca- his .Upanuro, 




as \vcM"c^ :\\c scM-\an:s, aiul c"\(""\ o!u^ 




a!\nit the house. 0\A \c\\^ wouKl 




ha\o done an\ahin^- to srixc^ hitn. I 




ha\e stHa\ Icmts eoursinf, vkn\n his dark 




taeo wluMi {he Major, on so;nc> miKl 




sunn\ nuMiiin^, assist(\i out h\ Shulr/, 




would sraiul in his dr(\^sin^-^o\\ ii, lean- 



/Imerkan RifiMyt/m. 



w(ffu] and f4) jfnk I Ko wcmdttr N^rr/» 

imt*, a» <iV€r beat htwtAth a whit/: rrian*» 
br#^a«t. 



A ;; :, :';:il pr^f^ for mfji and hor^;/:^. ^'^'^^'^ 



*o 'i;iy. 



'11 if: Haf>f>afh i^. no m//r^: 



rt*/^r<U:(\ than any r;fli/:r ^lay, ^>.f>#rr;ially 
aj$ it affmck a fiivr/rabk time firr stealing 
f>ay, cattle, etc,, when irvi^t of the men 
are attending divine worship, 

!>' ifjg at private devatimw, I wa« in- 
u-jTiipted by the entrance of C\tzr]f:% 
Jihoufing vrK;iferoii^.ly, ^^Tfie Brifi^iiTr iv 

J? vrrn t}j;it a lighf-hor^man rode 
up rapidly ^o J f' rjry l^'dttWm% inquiring I 
for j/j'-n; ;i!) v/^r': ^^ofj': to Ui<:(:tmff. ■ 
He look^^d about ami in the hou%e, arid 
hiithfuui himv If of th' fa/;r, but unfor- 



ijSi 


American RrcoJutiofh 


^ 


tunatclv c\<[^ii\l owx Novo stiiiulinL:" in the 




stable dooiwav. 




*' Rv Jove," said ho, ''I'll ha\c tluu 




Tici^ro." 




Seeing the soldier runi^ini:- towards 




him, poor Xero expected to he takiMi, 




and was already trNini;- to reeoneile hini- 




selt'to his t'ate, but he suddenb' thought. 




'* It's nc>t worth while to i::."i\ e in without 




an etibrt." So, keeping- the barn W- 




tween hiniselt' and his pursuer, he made 




tor a large ha}'-staek enclosed in the 




middle ot' the field. 




The red-coat ran his horse violently. 




with the intention, Lloubtless, ot' overtak- 




ing: bim before he reached the stack ; but 




Nero, though rather old and stifJ"", reaclu\l 




it, and jumped over the fence of en- 




closure. 




Almost instantly the Britisher rode up 




with his drawn sword, and swore it he 

ii'j 



j^mcrican Rcvoliillon, 



1781 



i\'u\ \\u\. yif:lf| hin) ,rlf up, lie wouM run 
fiim tfirou^^fi. 

Wr now ,s;iw \\\i: .soMicr rldf: furiou'.ly 
rourifi \\\(: }i;iy-st:ir:k, .'ind (jM Nr:ro p;f;t 
(jn it, altfiougfi witfj soni^: difficulty, for 
it was tr-n or {\{\(c\\ feet fiigh. Tfi^n 
thf! rnfHTiy rfisnu^unt^d and If:a})f:d over 
tfif: frnf;r. Nf:ro runninrr h.'u:kwards 
and forwards cm tfir liay-stack Tthc top 
of it was flat and about tfiirty fr-ct long;, 
thf: soldif:r striking at him unsuccessfully 
with his sword all tfir: time. At length 
wc saw tfiat /a.' too got uj)on the- hay- 
stack, and wc gavf: up j)oor Nero; his 
fate seemed inf:vitablf:. Not so; lie 
most adroitly eluded the liglit-horseman ; 
jumped off, crossed the fence, and made 
for the woods. 

His jiursue-r meanwfiilr: mounted Piis 
horse and was in fiot pursuit; indeerl, 
close at })is fu-els. fajr-kily tlirre was a 



ijSi 



American Revolution. 



thick hedge to cross, a\ lu ic our old hero 
had the adviintiigo, tor the horse would 
not leap it, and the rider, turning and 
cursing dreadfully, was obliged to dis- 
mount again ; but the tugitive was now- 
far on his way to the woods, where it 
was fruitless to follow. He was in such 
a raiie at beinii" thus batlled, that Nero 
would have fared badly had he ever 
fallen into his hands. He remained in 
the woods until after dark, when he 
crept home, and received a warm wel- 
come, especially from the children. 



Tuesdi 



ly- T^HE news of the battle oi Yorktown 
confirmed. 
Some months since General Wash- 
ington broke up the cam[> at White 
Plains and crossed the Huilson river, 
passed quietly through the Jerseys and 
the Province of Pennsylvaiua, and joineil 

104 



American Rcvoluthn. 



tjjr: ycjurj^^ Manjui'v d': ];i Fayette, who 
f;oi;jin;iijflf:d u largf: force at Elk river. 

][f:re t}jf:y '.cjKiratrfl tlj^: forces, one 
bofly saijirj;:^ for VJr^iirjia, tljc otljcr 
marching for tlie same jKjinr. 

At: a [)lace called Chester (I believe 
irj i}]f: i''rovincr: of J^mnsylvaniaj, Gene- 
ral WaJjirjr/tfjri hf:ard tlic joyful nevi'S 
of tfjf: arrival of t wcrjty-four J^"renc:h :-Jiips 
of ill': lirjf, urjflf.r Courji de Grasse. 

'] Ijf-y lj;id an ^rjgagemr-nt with t}jc 
enemy ufjd'r Admiral Crraves, in wJiich 
the i''rerjeh Allies were victors, and left 
ma'tf r. of thf: Jlay r^f Chesapeake. 

'] he wiiole Ameriean force nnder 
Wasljingfcjn surrounded the king's 
troops at Yorktrjwn; they were block- 
aded by larjd arjd by wafer by arj army 
("irjcluding i''rench arjd njiliria; of lO.ooo. 

'J"he tremendous hring (;f artillery 
took the fmemy by storm ; tliey f.ould 



lySi 



Amcrkdn Revolution. 



neither nillv nor recover. Tlieir bat- 
teries and defences were completely de- 
molished ; their ciins were silenced, and 
no hope ot relict or way ot escape re- 
mained. 

On the i~th of October, Lord Corn- 
wallis, the British commander of the 
land forces, proposed a cessation o\ hos- 
tilities, and two days afterwards surren- 
dered : and articles were signed by which 
the troops, stores, and shipping tell into 
the hands oi General Washington. 
Thus was the pride of the royal army 
laid low. 

The thanks and praise be to God ! 
We do not dare ascribe it to the strength 
of an arm of tiesh, but to the riiihteous- 
ness of our cause, and to the might and 
power our great commander hath been 
endued with trom on high. 

The people are cautious in their ex- 



Aincrkan Revolution. 



781 



pressif^ns, 1:>(:ing .surrourulcd hy \\\v Bri- 
tish; hut t}j(:ir joy is irrfj^rcssihlc at die 
gcxKl nrws, \\n)\\'^\\ ik) };iihh"(: demonstra- 
tion can be made. 

Divine service was perfornaed in the 
American brigades, and the Commander- 
in-Chief recommended tfjat all who were 
not on (hity should join in worship, 
enjoining "a serious deportment, and 
that sensibility of heart whicli tlie recol- 
le-ction of the surprising and particular 
inter})osition cjf Divine iVovidence in 
our fivor claims." 



I^^PilLE joy reigns in a large por- 
tion of the country, we are not 
released from })ersecution. It Jias in- 
deed been at times almost beyond 
endurance. "Day unto day uttereth 
speecli." Sometimes we are ready to 
exclaim, "Wo is the day that ever my 



Wednesday. 



ijSi 



Amcrh \ in Rcvoli/thn. 



eyes saw the hg 



ht 



But the nu)rnini2' 



is breaking-: our Fatlier in heaven hath 
not utterly hid his t'aee tioni us. 



Nov. <yth. TV/TV husband writes most eheerin*;iy. 
The letter was brouijht by a triend 
of Major Musgrave, who wished to 
make inquiries respecting- him, and take 
charge ot his effects. The gentleman 
seemed to have lovetl him well, antl to 
have appreciated the sweetness and deli- 
cacy of liis nature. He was nnieh 
moved at my recital of the Major's suf- 
ferings, mental and bodily. We weep, 
but not for him ; he sleepeth well. 

A DAY of public thanksgiving. May 
the incense of prayer and praise 
ascend from the altar of my heart I 

My honored father participates in die 
general joy; not for the discomfiture ot 



American Revolution. 



1782 



the British, but from the hope of peace, 
which his soul loveth, and the heah'ng 
of discord. 



TT is the first day of the year. The 
httle ones are very merry, and are 
wishing all they meet " a happy coming 
year." It is for them a pleasant day, but 
we are saddened by its recurrence. The 
sunshine of their hearts is not clouded; 
blessed season of hope and joy ! In my 
own, too, it dawns more brightly than 
the last. My loved partner is not here, 
but I have cause to sing the song of 
deliverance, in that his precious life hath 
been preserved amid so many and great 
dangers, which he has never shunned 
but rather courted. Is not the prospect 
brightened for my country since this 
time last year? And for him whom 
the voice of men placed at the helm — 



Jan, isL 



1782 



American Revolution . 



the great Washington — is there no joy, 
no gratitude, in the deep places of my 
heart, that God hath raised him up, hath 
preserved, hath prospered him ? 



Aug, loth. I^^EWS of Lord Nordfs resignation 
of the office of Prime Minister, 
and the forming of a new cabinet, who 
advise His Majesty to discontinue the 
war. Glorious news ! Heaven grant 
it may be true. It is certain the war 
has- proved but great loss of life and 
treasure, without any real gain to Eng- 
lish valor, or concession on the part of 
the Colonies. 

Faces of men, women, and children, 
brighten with expectation of better times. 
May their hope be not again over- 
clouded ! In war there is not a gleam 
of lifiht to illuminate the darkness. Its 
practices are adverse to the law of con- 



Aincrlca?i Revoli/tion. 



1782 



science, and lacerating to the feeling 
heart. 

We are ready to shout the pcan of 
victory, to exult afar off in the triumph, 
and to cheer on the conflict. But could 
we witness the heart-sickening details, 
see the loathsome reality, hear the pierc- 
ing groan, the horrid imprecation, the 
fiendish laugh, we should " rejoice with 
trembling," and mourn the necessity, 
while we return thanks for the victory. 

Then let us pause in silence, "and 
while the good angel of our thoughts 
brings to our recollection the frightful 
Gorgon-brood of evils which follow in 
the train of War, pray without ceasing 
that Peace may come and reign in our 
land. 



'TpHE cry of peace resounds ! The 
news came to-day. The children 



April 23. 



178, 



American Revolution, 



ran from school, dismissed by the teacher^ 
that all might share in the general joy. 
They are told that some great good has 
happened, they know not what. The 
time will come when they will experi- 
ence and treasure it as the highest favor 
vouchsafed by a kind Providence. God 
be praised I 

The soldiers and Hessians are mov- 
ing off in bands, and the sick are left 
behind to follow after. Many of the 
poor creatures have formed attachments, 
and the ties of kindness and gratitude 
are hard to break. The human heart, 
of whatever clime or station, vjiJl respond 
to good treatment; and it is cheering 
and delightful to observe that, in spite 
of the greatest personal inconvenience, 
by patience and good offices, we may 
awaken interest and gratitude in those 



beneath us. 



American Revolution. 



1783 



Many of them begged to be permit- 
ted to remain in some menial capacity; 
but the ties of kindred prevailed with 
the greater part. 



A Sermo 



N 



PREACHED ON THE EVE OF THE BAT- 
TLE OF BRANDYWINE BY THE REV. 
JOAB TROUT, SEPTEMBER loth, i^ttj, 

" ^OT long since," writes Mr. Hamil- 
ton Schefmyer, "searching into 
the papers of my grandfather, Major 
John Jacob Schefmyer, who was out in 
the days of the Revolution, J found the 
following discourse, delivered in the 
presence of a large portion of the Ame- 
rican soldiery, General Washington, 
General Wayne, and other officers of 
the army, on the eve of the battle of 
Brandywine." 





American Revolution. 






" "^hey that take the sword shall perish hy 
the sword:' — St. Matthew, chap. 27, v. 52. 

Soldiers and Countrymen : 

We have met this evening, perhaps 
for the last time ! We have shared 
the toil of the march, the peril of the 
fight, and the dismay of the retreat 
alike ; we have endured the cold and 
hunger, the contumely of the internal 
foe, and courage of the foreign oppres- 
sor. We have sat, night after night, 
beside the camp fire; we have heard 
together the roll of the reveille, which 
called us to duty, or the beat of the 
tattoo, which gave the signal for the 
hardy sleep of the soldier, with the earth 
for his bed and the knapsack for his 
pillow. 

And now, soldiers and brethren, we 

208 



American Revolution. 



have met in the peaceful valley on the 
eve of battle, while the sunlight is dying 
away behind yonder heights — the sun- 
light that to-morrow morn will glimmer 
on scenes of blood I 

We have met amid the whitening 
tents of our encampment; in time of 
terror and of gloom have we gathered 
together. God grant it may not be for 
the last time I 

It is a solemn moment, brethren. 
Does not the solemn voice of nature 
seem to echo the sympathies of the 
hour ? The flag of our country droops 
heavily from yonder staff; the breeze 
has died away along the green plain of 
Chadd's Ford, the plain that spreads be- 
fore us glittering in the sunlight. The 
heights of the Brandy wine arise gloomy 
and grand beyond the waters of yonder 
stream. All nature holds a solemn si- 



American Revolution. 



lence on the eve of the uproar, of the 
bloodshed and strife of to-morrow I 

" l^hey that take the sword shall perish hy 
the szcord" 

And have they not taken the sword ? 

Let the desolated plain, the blood- 
sodden valley, the burned farm-house, 
blackening in the sun, the sacked vil- 
lage, and the ravaged town, answer I 
Let the whitening bones of the butch- 
ered farmer, strewed along the fields of 
his homestead, answer I Let the starv- 
ing mother, with the babe clinging to 
the withered breast that can afford no 
sustenance, let her answer, with the death- 
rattle mingling with the murmuring 
tones that mark the last struggle of life I 
Let that dying mother and her babe 
answer ! 

It was but a day past, and our land 
slept in the quiet of peace. War was 



American Revolution. 



not here ; wrong was not here. Fraud, 
and wo, and misery, and want dwelt not 
among us. From the eternal soh'tude 
of the green woods rose the blue smoke 
of the settler's cabin, and golden fields 
of corn looked forth from amid the 
waste of the wilderness, and the glad 
music of human voices awoke the si- 
lence of the forest. 

Now — God of mercy ! — behold the 
change ! Under the shadow of a pre- 
text, under the sanctity of the name of 
God, invoking the Redeemer to their 
aid, do these foreign hirelings slay our 
people ! They throng our towns, they 
darken our plains, and now they encom- 
pass our posts on the lonely plain of 
Chadd's Ford. 

" '^hcy that take the sword shall perish hy 
the sword." 

Brethren, think me not unworthy of 



Amcrkau RcvoJution, 



belief when I tell you the doom of the 
British is near I Think me not vain, 
when I tell you that beyond the cloud 
that now enshrouds us, I see gathering, 
thick and fast, the darker cloud and the 
blacker storm of divine retribution! 

They may conquer us to-morrow. 
Might and wrong may prevail, and we 
may be driven from this field, but the 
hour of God's own vengeance will 
come ! 

Ay, if In the vast solitudes of eter- 
nal space, if in the heart of the bound- 
less universe, there throbs the being of 
an awful God, quick to avenge and 
sure to punish guilt, then will the man 
George of Brunswick, called King, feel 
in his brain and his heart the vengeance 
of the eternal Jehovah I A blight will 
be upon his life, a withered brain and 
accursed intellect; a blight will be upon 



American Revolution, 



his children, and on his people ! Great 
God, how dread the punishment I 

A crowded populace, peopling the 
dense towns, where the man of money 
thrives while the laborer starves; want 
striding among the people in all its 
forms of teiror; a proud and merciless 
nobility adding wrong to wrong, and 
heaping insult upon robbery and fraud; 
a God-defying priesthood ; royalty cor- 
rupt to the very heart, and aristocracy 
rotten to the core ; crime and want 
linked hand in hand and tempting men 
to deeds of wo and death ; these are a 
part of the doom and retribution that 
will come upon the English throne, and 
the English people I 

Soldiers, I look around upon your 
familiar faces with strange interest. To- 
morrow morning we will all go forth to 
the battle ; for need I tell you that your 



American Rrcolution. 



unworthy minister will march with you, 
invoking God's aid in the fight ? We 
will march forth to battle I Need I 
exhort you to fight the good fight; to 
fight for your homesteads, for your wives 
and children ? 

My friends, I might urge you to fight 
by the galling memories of British 
wrong. Walton, I might tell you of 
your father butchered in the silence of 
night on the plains of Trenton; I might 
picture his grey hairs dabbled in blood ; 
I might ring his death-shriek in your 
ears ! 

Shelmire, I might tell you of a butch- 
ered mother ; the lonely farm-house, the 
night assault, the roof in flames, the 
shouts of the troopers as they dispatched 
their victims; the cries for mercy, the 
pleadings of innocence for pity. I might 
paint this all again in the vivid colors 



American Rrcolution, 



of the terrible reality, if I thought your 
courage needed such wild excitement. 

But I know you are strong in the 
might of the Lord. You will march 
forth to battle on the morrow with light 
hearts and determined spirits, though 
the solemn duty, the duty of avenging 
the dead, may rest heavy on your souls. 

And in the hour of battle, when all 
around the darkness is lit by the lurid 
cannon glare, and the piercing musket 
flash, when the wounded strew the 
ground and the dead litter your path, 
then remember, soldiers, that God is 
with you I The eternal God fights for 
you I He rides on the battle-cloud ; he 
sweeps onward with the march, or the 
hurricane charge ! God, the awful and the 
infinite, fights for you, and will triumph I 

" ^hey that take the sword shall perish hy 
the sword." 



American Revolution, 



You have taken the sword, but not 
in the spirit of wrong and ravage. You 
have taken the sword for your homes, 
for your wives, for your httle ones. 
You have taken the sword for truth, for 
justice and right; and to you the pro- 
mise is, "Be of good cheer, for your 
foes have taken the sword in defiance 
of all that man holds dear, in blasphemy 
of God." They shall perish by the 
sword. 

And, now, brethren and soldiers, I 
bid you all farewell I 

Many of us may fall in the battle to- 
morrow. God rest the souls of the 
fallen I Many of us may live to tell 
the story of the fight to-morrow, and in 
the memory of all will ever rest and 
linger the quiet scene of this autumnal 
night. 

Solemn twilight advances over the 



American Revdiition. 



valley. The woods on the opposite 
heights fling their long shadows over 
the green of the meadow. Around us 
are the tents of the Continental host; 
the suppressed bustle of the camp, the 
hurried tramp of the soldiers to and fro 
among the tents, the stillness and awe 
that marks the eve of battle. 

When we meet again may the sha- 
dows of twilight be flung over a peace- 
ful land. God in heaven grant it I 

Let us pray. 

Oh God of mercy, we pray thy bless- 
ing on the American arms. Make the 
man of our hearts strong in thy wisdom; 
bless, we beseech thee, with renewed 
life and strength, our hope and Thy 
instrument, even George Washington. 
Shower thy counsels down on the Hon- 
orable the Continental Congress. Visit 
the tents of our host; comfort the sol- 

10 217 



Afnerican Revolution. 



dier in his wounds and afflictions ; nerve 
him for the fight; prepare him for the 
hour of death. 

And in the hour of defeat, oh, God 
of Hosts, do thou be our stay; and in 
the hour of triumph be thou our guide. 

Teach us to be merciful. Though 
the memory of galHng wrongs be at our 
hearts knocking for admittance, that 
they may fill us with the desire of re- 
venge, yet let us, oh. Lord, spare the 
vanquished, though they never spared 
us in the hour of butchery and blood- 
shed ! 

And in the hour of death do thou 
guide us to the abode prepared for the 
blessed ; so shall we return thanks unto 
thee through Christ our Redeemer. 

God prosper the Cause. Amen. 



American Revolution. 



Recollections 



OF 



General Washington 



^HE following note was found among 
the papers of the late Lord Erskine : 

" To General Washington : 

"Sir,— I have taken the liberty to 
introduce your august and immortal 
name in a short sentence which is to 
be found in the book I send to you. 

" I have a large acquaintance among 
the most valuable and exalted class of 
men; but you are the only human being 
for whom I ever felt an awful reverence. 



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I sincerely pray to God to grant a long 
and serene evening to a life so glori- 
ously devoted to the happiness of the 

world. 

"T. Erskine." 



In the year of our Lord 1790, I stood 
upon the door-step of the counting- 
house, of which I was then but the 
youngest clerk, when the companion 
beside me hurriedly said, " There he 
comes ! There comes Washington I " 

I looked up Pearl Street, and saw 
approaching, with stately tread and 
open brow, the Father of my country. 
His hat was off, for the day was sultry, 
and he was accompanied by Colonel 
Page and James Madison. 

Never have I forgotten, nor shall I 
to my dying day'^'forget, the serene, the 



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benign, the god-like expression of the 
countenance of that man of men. His 
lofty mien and commanding figure, set 
off to advantage by an elegant dress, 
consisting of a blue coat, buff small 
clothes, silver knee and shoe buckles, 
and white vest; his powdered locks, 
and powerful, vigorous look (for he 
was then in the prime and strength of 
his mianhood), have never faded from 
my mind during the many years which, 
with all their chances and changes, have 
rolled between. 

As Washington passed near the spot 
where I stood, his mild, clear, blue eye 
fell upon me, and it seemed as though 
his very glance was a benediction. 
Though high deeds and noble acts, 
fame, death, a nation's worship and 
tears, have since in the deep places of 
my heart consecrated his name above. 

221 



American Rrcoluthn. 



every other name of earth, yet even 
then, boy as I was, the glance thrilled 
me through and through ; my eyes fell 
beneath it, and my hand was involun- 
tarily raised to uncover my head as that 
august personage passed by. 

The aspect of the outer man alone 
was calculated to enforce respect, to 
compel awe and reverence. But there 
is that in the sight and presence of a 
being we revere, a being whose name 
we have been taught to lisp in infancy 
with grateful affection, and have had 
held up to us in boyhood as worthy of 
all honor and imitation, which stirs feel- 
ings which lie far down in the depths of 
the soul, and inspires faith and trust in 
God, and in human goodness. Oh I 
heaven-taught, heaven-endowed man I 
ordained of thy Maker to be thy coun- 
try's deliverer ! 



American Revolution. 



Once again I saw the President. He 
was riding, the carriage being drawn by 
four beautiful bays. I remember well 
its silver plate and yellow panels (yel- 
low, by the way, has ever since seemed 
to me a proper and aristocratic color for 
a vehicle of this kind). Mrs., or Lady 
Washington, as she was always called, 
sat by his side. She was of a comely 
and pleasant countenance, and appeared 
to be conversing in a lively manner 
with the General. 

"Be not too familiar, lest men see 
thine infirmities, and learn to cavil at 
thy teaching." 

This truth Washington appears to 
have appreciated ; or rather it was in- 
nate in his character. Yet no man had 
fewer infirmities than he, and none 
could have less dread of scrutiny. The 
most conspicuous trait in his character, 

223 



American Rccoliition. 



and one of the rarest virtues, was mode- 
ration. This was exemphfied in every 
act of his Hfe. Temperance shone in all ; 
it was the guide of his conduct, the key 
to his great successes. Ambition, fame, 
miUtary glory, considered in themselves, 
seem never to have had entrance into 
his clear, conscientious mind. With 
him all "the pomp and circumstance of 
glorious war" was never dreamed of 
The right and freedom nerved his arm. 
He drew only the sword of defence. 
Though his courage was undaunted, 
enthusiasm formed no part of his cha- 
racter. " The loud clarion and the spirit- 
stirring drum" never drowned in his ear 
the cry of despair, the shriek of the dy- 
ing. He never for a moment forgot 
that the fall of the meanest soldier on 
the battle-field carried desolation, wailing, 
and often destitution, into an household. 



Aincrkan Revolution. 



But to return. The gaily prancing 
steeds soon rolled the carriage out of 
sight, and left me standing in the street, 
an enthusiastic boy-dreamer, with won- 
dering gaze and crowding thoughts. 

Once more was he borne along; the 
steeds not now prancing and gay, but 
one, the old war-horse, led before his 
master's body, saddle and stirrup empty, 
and cloth of black covering him ! Mourn- 
fully the dumb animal seemed to walk. 
How mutely eloquent it was ! 

The scene is now before me ; the so- 
lemn procession slowly moving, marked 
through all its length with the sad trap- 
ping of wo. The unutterably solemn 
strain of music, the march for the dead, 
rings in my ear. I seem to see again 
the serious, downcast faces of the men 
who followed it. Again I hear the sobs 
and the weeping of the women, and see 

1 0"'^" oo- 



Aincrkan Rcvohition. 



the wondering and affrighted look of 
the little children. Each mourned as 
with a personal grief Earth will never 
again behold such a spectacle — a nation 
melted in tears I 

Why were they shed? What trait 
of our beloved Washington do we most 
gratefully reverence ? Is it not his 
transcendent goodness, his unsullied in- 
tegrity, his purest patriotism? Yes, 
we love while we honor his memory. 
While he lived, we reposed trust in 
him, as in an ark of safety, a shield of 
defence. A God-fearing man. He pros- 
pered and blessed his life. Favored of 
Heaven, he enjoyed the confidence of 
men. No, I repeat, never shall I forget 
the words which wrought wonder, con- 
sternation, and fear in my mind — IFash- 
ington is dead! 

For many years I dwelt in the very 



American Revolution. 



house in which the great defender lived. 
I slept in the very room in which 
h^ slumbered. Sometimes an ancient 
friend of the family would point out 
with pleasure and honorable pride the 
very spots where the General and his 
lady stood on grand reception days; 
how they were attired; what gracious 
words they spake, and how kindly and 
how hospitable they were. 

And then the old man, sighing, said 
to my mother, with the retrospective 
glance of age, " Ah, madam, these were 
palmy days I" 

There was one article in the house 
which had belonged to the Washington 
family, and only one. It was an old 
mirror. It fitted over the mantelpiece 
underneath the wainscotting, and was 
never removed. Well do I remember, 
when a mere child, being told this by 



Aincrkan Rcvoh/thn. 



an old servant, and how I gazed upon it 
with veneration, because it had often re- 
flected the face and form of the beloved 
Washington. It was held as a relic of him. 
Many a weary night when I have 
lain sleepless on my bed, the wind 
whistling mournfully without, a lonely 
feeling would creep over me as I looked 
upon the wainscotted walls of The 
Great Room, the old blue tiles of the 
large fire-place, and the deep embrasured 
windows, and felt the stillness so pro- 
found within that I could almost hear 
the beating of my heart. Then the ter- 
rors of a fearful imagination would be 
exorcised, as the words of my mother 
seemed to whisper me again : " When 
vain fears disturb thee, remember the 
good man who once lay where thou 
licst, and be thankful. The dark vision 
will be dispelled." 

228 



Aincncan Rcvohithn. 



Then I have thought, " His eyes 
have rested on the objects which I now 
behold." I have fancied the thoughts 
that might have filled his mind as he 
lay on a sometime sleepless pillow — 
thoughts pure, thankful, self-sacrificing, 
noble I 

A vivid picture of the illustrious man 
was before me; his countenance up- 
lifted and lustrous with heavenly peace 
and hope ; his hands upraised, and his 
lips moving with w^ords of prayer and 
praise. For I had been told that he 
was a man of prayer ; and in this^ I had 
been taught to believe, lay his strength. 

And then (easy transition), a yet more 
glorious vision passed before me — a 
beatific vision. I have seen him one 
of the throng of those who walk in 
white beneath the shadow of the Eter- 
nal Throne; his face radiant with joy. 



American Revolution. 



and a crown of light encircling his brow, 
yet wearing the same serene, majestic 
look which he wore on earth. 

Spirit of Washington I wise, mild, 
merciful, temperate, just, we evoke thee I 
Influence, guide, and rule thy country- 
men! 



American Revolution. 



Recollections 



OF 



General La Fayette 



TN dwelling upon Washington, the 
name of another great man rises 
involuntarily — La Fayette. His disin- 
terestedness, noble heroism, and pure 
integrity, shine with unsullied lustre. 
We experience a hearty reverence and 
affection; are proud that such a man 
espoused our cause, and freely accord 
to him the high honor of one worthy 
to be called the Friend of Washington. 
Kindred in spirit, in aims, in hopes. 



American Revolution. 



Washington tempered the ardor of La 
Fayette, viewing him in the light of a 
dear son, while La Fayette reverenced 
the wisdom, greatness, and virtue of 
his guide, his example, his more than 
friend. 

Married to a lovely and high-born 
woman in the year 1774, when but a 
little over seventeen years of age, in the 
summer of '76 La Fayette was sta- 
tioned on military duty at Metz, being 
then an officer in the French army. 
Dining at that time with the Duke of 
Glocester (brother to the King of Eng- 
land) at the house of the commandant 
of thar place, the conversation fell on 
American affairs. 

The details were new to the young 
Marquis. He listened with eagerness 
and intense interest. The cause seemed 
to him just and noble, from the repre- 

232 



American Revolution. 



sentations of the Duke himself, and be- 
fore he left the table he devoted himself 
heart and hand to it. He determined 
to offer his services to a people who 
were struggling for freedom and inde- 
pendence. And from that hour he could 
think of nothing but this chivalrous en- 
terprise. 

The property of La Fayette being at 
his own disposal (an annual revenue of 
two hundred thousand livres), he was 
enabled to pursue in this respect his 
heroic inclinations. His youthful ima- 
gination was fired with the thirst of 
glory. The dazzling vision of conquer- 
ing and establishing a wide country 
over the sea, to be the habitation, home, 
and dwelling-place of Freedom, so dear 
to his lofty and untrammelled mind, be- 
came real and palpable. Recollections 
of the glorious Past, its republics and 



American Revolution. 



their ancient splendor, arts, letters, poets, 
orators, and warriors, filled his mind, 
and mingled with the cry of the op- 
pressed sounding in his ear, above the 
booming ocean which rolled between, 
fixing his firm resolve. 

Born and cradled amid the most aris- 
tocratic influences, brought up in the 
lap of luxury, and united to the object 
of his affections, rank, wealth, friends, 
power, whose blandishments are so blind- 
ing to the mental and moral vision, and 
so inimical to high purposes and noble 
deeds, were unheeded by La Fayette. 
That cry for succor was never stilled. 
He would not turn a deaf ear to it. 
The promptings of a generous heart 
were obeyed. The sacrifice was made; 
to Jiim no sacrifice, yet in truth a tremen- 
dous one, one which we feel with a thrill 
of gratitude, and shall to all generations. 



American Rrcolutmi. 



By leaving France, La Fayette in- 
curred the displeasure of his king and 
of the nobles and his own relations. To 
his wife he thus writes, when fairly off 
at sea : 

" How nnany fears and anxieties en- 
hance the keen anguish I feel at being 
separated from all that I love most 
fondly in the world I How have you 
borne my departure ? Have you loved 
me less ? Have you pardoned me *? 
Your sorrow, that of my friends, and 
my child, all rushed upon my thoughts, 
and my heart was torn by a thousand 
painful feelings. I could not at that 
instant find any excuse for my own 
conduct. 

" If you could know all that I have 
suffered, and the melancholy days that 
I have passed, whilst flying from all 
that I love best in the w^orldl Must I 



American Revolution. 



join to this affliction the grief of hear- 
ing that you do not pardon me '? I 
should feel in truth too miserable. But 
I need not fear this, need I, my dearest 
love ? " 

In reading such letters we fully esti- 
mate the costliness of the sacrifice. We 
may perhaps feel regret in reviewing 
some scenes in the life of La Fayette. 
We regret that the life of Louis and 
his beautiful queen, placed in his hands, 
were not, by decision, firmness, and fore- 
thought, saved. Speaking of them, he 
says: "The king and queen, whose 
lamentable fate only allows me to pride 
myself on some service I have rendered 
them." Again : " If I have erred in the 
path I am pursuing, forgive the illusions 
of my head in favor of the good inten- 
tions and rectitude of my heart." 

Washington's love for La Fayette 

23(J 



American Revolution. 



forms one of the softest and most beau- 
tiful traits of his august character. "He 
came," says the Marquis, in speaking of 
a severe illness he suffered, "every day 
to inquire after his friend, but fearing to 
agitate him, only conversed with the 
physician, and returned home with tear- 
ful eyes, and a heart oppressed with 
grief" 

When La Fayette was wounded at 
Brandywine, Washington said to the 
surgeon, "Take care of him as if he 
were my son, for I love him the same ; " 
and he expressed for him during this 
illness the most tender and paternal 
anxiety. 

" How is it possible," exclaims La 
Fayette, whose love and respect knew 
no bounds, "that he should not have 
been warmly cherished by his disciple — 
he who, uniting all that is good to all 



Aincrkan Rcculutiun. 



that is great, is even more sublime from 
his virtues than from his talents % Had 
he been a common soldier he would 
have been the bravest in the ranks ; had 
he been an obscure citizen, all his neigh- 
bors would have respected him. With 
a heart and mind equally correctly 
formed, he judged both of himself and 
circumstances with strict impartiality." 

"Nature," he adds, "while creating 
him expressly for that Revolution, con- 
ferred an honor upon herself And to 
show her work to the greatest possible 
advantage, so constituted it, that each 
distinct quality would have failed in 
producing the end required, had it not 
been sustained by all the others." 

The most delightful recollections of 
my earliest childhood are those of the 
visit of General de La Fayette to Ame- 
rica. The splendid pageant of his en- 



American Revolution. 



trance into this city is indelibly im- 
printed on my memory ; as is also the 
being held on men's shoulders in the 
Park, after viewing, in all its pompous 
length, the procession, to behold the 
benevolent and beaming countenance 
of one whom I had been taught to re- 
vere. 

Afterwards too, the honor that I felt 
in being taken by the hand by this 
great and brave man, my heart beating 
proudly the while beneath the ribbon 
badge which I wore, stamped with his 
features, and with the words, ''^JVelcome 
to the Nation's Guestr 

Oh, happy day for me ! thrice happy 
and glorious to him I 

The animated face, plain dress, few 
courteous words, and gracious, kind 
looks of La Fayette, are well remem- 
bered. 



Ajiierican Revolution. 



Kings and emperors have visited die 
kingdoms of their compeers, when more 
elaborate pageantry, more royal pomp 
has been displayed. 

From war, victors have come laden 
with spoils, while the populace, with 
frantic zeal, have dragged their chariots 
through the crowd of benighted wor- 
shippers; but such an universal, spon- 
taneous outburst of national gratitude — 
the impulse of millions as of one imcli- 
vided heart and mind — cherished, trans- 
mitted, and grown with the nation's 
growth, during the lapse of near fifty 
years, was never before exhibited to the 
world — was never recorded on history's 
page! 

240 



American Revolution. 



Anecdotes of 



Tributes to Washington. 



JN 1754 he was stationed at Alexan- 
dria with his regiment, the only one 
in the colony, of which he was the colo- 
nel. There happened at that time to be 
an election in Alexandria for members of 
the Assembly, and the ballot ran high 
between Colonel George Fairfax and 
Mr. William Elgey. 

Washington was on the side of Fair- 
fax, and a Mr. William Payne headed 
the friends of Elgey. 
11 



American Revolution. 



In the course of the contest, Wash- 
ington grew very warm (for his passions 
naturally were very powerful, though a 
wise regard to duty, i.e. honor and hap- 
piness, soon reduced them to proper 
command), and unluckily said some- 
thing to Mr. Payne, who, though but a 
cub in size, was a lion in heart, elevated 
his shillelah, and, at a blow, extended 
our hero on the ground. 

News was soon carried to the regi- 
ment that their colonel was murdered 
by the mob I 

On the passions of the soldiers, who 
doated upon their commander, such a re- 
port fell at once Hke a flash of lightning 
on a piagazine of gunpowder. 

In a moment the whole regiment was 
under arms and in rapid motion to- 
wards the town, burning for vengeance. 

During this time Washington had 



American Revolution. 



been liberally plied with cold water, 
acids, and volatiles; and, happily for 
Mr. Payne and his party, was so far 
recovered as to go out and meet his 
enraged soldiers, who crowded round 
him with faces of honest joy to see him 
alive again. 

After thanking them for such an evi- 
dence of their attachment to him, he 
assured them that he was not hurt in 
the least, and begged them, by their 
love of him and of their duty, to return 
peaceably to their barracks. 

As for himself, he went to his room, 
generously chastising his passion, which 
had just struck but a spark that had 
like to have thrown the whole town in 
a flame ; and feeling himself the aggres- 
sor of Mr. Payne, he resolved to make 
him the honorable reparation of asking 
his pardon. 



American Revolution. 



No sooner had he made this heroic 
resolution, than recovering that delicious 
gaiety which ever accompanies good 
purposes in a virtuous mind, he went 
to a ball that night, and behaved as 
pleasantly as though nothing had hap- 
pened. 

Early the next morning he wrote a 
polite note of invitation to Mr. Payne 
to meet him at the inn. 

Payne took it for a challenge, and 
repaired to the inn in full expectation 
of smelling gunpowder. But what was 
his surprise, on entering the chamber, 
to see, in lieu of a brace of pistols, a 
decanter of wine and a pair of glasses 
on the table. 

Washington rose to meet him, and 
offering his hand, with a smile began : 

" Mr. Payne, to err sometimes is na- 
ture ; to rectify error is always glory. 



American Revolution. 



I believe I was wrong in the affair of 
yesterday. You have had, I think, 
some satisfaction, and if you deem that 
sufficient, there is my hand ; let us be 
friends." 

An act of such sublime virtue, pro- 
duced its proper effect upon the mind 
of Mr. Payne, who, from that moment, 
became the most enthusiastic admirer 
and friend of Washington ; and for his 
sake, ready at any time to charge up to 
a battery of two-and-forty pounders. 

" Would our youth," says the narra- 
tor, " but be persuaded to act in a style 
so correct and heroical, our papers would 
no longer shock us with accounts of 
elegant young men murdering each 
other on false principles of honor; by 
one desperate deed depriving them- 
selves of all present pleasure, and of all 
future hope." 



American Revolution. 



" There was a man," says an eloquent 
writer, "who stood on the loftiest seat 
of power and did not fall. Hallowed 
for all time be the anniversary of his 
birth ! Our Washington was one of the 
few great men in the world, in whom 
the better sentiments were wrought into 
established and governing principles." 

This was emphatically his greatness. 
His whole character was based upon 
steadfast and inflexible principles. I 
see this trait in all his writings. I see 
everywhere, how all that there was of 
feeling and enthusiasm in his mind was 
tamed down to the sedateness and 
strength of principle. I see in his 
whole life the same concentration of 
everything to the one point of duty. 

Duty, principle, was the pole-star that 
guided him through the troubled and 

trying scenes of his life. 

24r. 



American Revolution. 



It is this which the sculptor has set 
forth when he represented the victorious 
chief with one hand surrendering to the 
country the sheathed sword, the emblem 
at once of command and of power, and 
with the other pointing to heaven, in 
token of humble and solemn gratitude, 
and allegiance to the Power Supreme. 

And this was, in the sphere in which 
he moved, a greatness of which many 
who are called great were utterly in- 
capable. It was a greatness which no 
man in similar circumstances ever ex- 
hibited. A Caesar grasping at the scep- 
tre of empire, an Alexander sweeping 
the skirts of Asia with his hosts, a Na- 
poleon or a Cromwell, vaulting, when 
occasion served, to the seat of arbitrary 
power — what were those examples of 
miscalled greatness to the sublime and 
Christian heroism of our Washington ? 

247 



Ainerican Revolution. 



This demands a resolution, an energy, 
a nobleness, to be seen nowhere else. 
To abjure all ease, all softness, all in- 
dulgence, all ambition, as the solemn 
behest of charity; to bring to an end 
this eternal conflict — the contradiction 
between our ideal and our practice — to 
pass through the great regeneration from 
passive sentiment to resolved and active 
principle. This, in every walk, indi- 
vidual, social, political, in every career 
of communities or nations, is the only 
path to unfading glory on earth, and 
eternal bliss in heaven. 



248 



American Revolution, 



Remarks on the Death 



OF 



General La Fayette 



'npHE majority of men estimate the 
superiority of their fellows solely 
by the indications of power — of power 
under whatever shape it* may present 
itself; no matter how unequal may be 
its development, or how destructive its 
display. What mind does not shrink 
before the blazing intellect of Byron — 
the iron ambition of Napoleon *? 

But how few can appreciate the moral 
grandeur, the wonderful assemblage, the 

249 



American RevohiUon. 



just balancing and developing of good 
and great qualities, in the character of 
Washington? And yet that character 
was such a plienomenon as a singular de- 
parture from the wonted exhibitions of 
human nature, under its most glorious 
aspects, as ever had a place upon the 
annals of mankind. 

And history will regard La Fayette 
as one of those immortal benefactors of 
our race who have stretched their arms 
beyond one generation to embrace the 
children of centuries in advance — a liv- 
ing model of goodness in every age ! 
One of the few nobly great men who 
live on the pages of the world's history, 
to teach us, when despairing of the on- 
ward destiny of our race, that there have 
been some who have dared to be honest 
under all circumstances, and who have 
retained their benignity and love of 



American Revolution. 



mankind, when philanthropy became a 
reproach and a by-word I 

The honesty that rose to the dignity 
of heroism, and the moderation which 
in classic story would be dignified as 
the loftiest philosophy, will leave un- 
questioned the greatness of La Fayette. 




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